Finding The Way Home
by spottedhorse
Summary: Martin and Louisa have grown closer but will an accident derail their progress? Follows Lifting Weights.
1. Chapter 1

Many, many thank yous to everyone who read and encouraged me on the last story. I promised a sequel and this is the first installment. I'm afraid it isn't exactly what many had in mind. You'll see why as you read. Once again, it isn't mine; well, except for one or two characters. No infringement intended.

Oh and one more thing... my computer seemes to have some issues right now. Hopefully it won't interfere too much with my writing and posting but just in case... be warned ;-)

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On the Monday following his and Louisa's overnight in Trurto, Martin's day was going about as his days generally went; complaining patients who stupidly had ignored his instructions and now were presenting with more aches and pains or disease, a few with complications. He was just finishing with his first patient after the break for lunch, which had been very enjoyable as James was napping and he'd found Louisa upstairs. She hinted at more strenuous activities during his lunch break but he wasn't comfortable with the notion since they could be interrupted but a bit of snogging and cuddling on one's lunch break did wonders for one's attitude in the afternoon, especially after the weekend they'd shared. Consequently, he was almost in a good mood by the time a call came in about an accident down at the Platt. Grumbling under his breath, Martin grabbed his bag and headed to the village's latest disaster.

It was easy to find the patient as a gaggle of villagers was standing around gawking at the poor devil. Martin gagged as the sea of people parted and he caught sight of the fisherman who'd somehow managed to get entangled in the propellers of his boat. His mood worsening, he knelt beside the man, inspecting the injuries while yelling for someone to call an ambulance. The man was bleeding profusely and Martin knew there was only so much he would be able to do for the patient. He needed a hospital.

Working with fervor, Martin managed to slow the bleeding for various wounds but they were too deep and would need closing surgically. Still, using dressings from his bag and applying pressure to the worst one, he was satisfied that things were under control for the moment. Commanding one of the by standers to hold the dressing in place with the appropriate pressure, he inspected the lesser injuries and checked for anything broken.

The villagers who were watching were awed, as usual, by the skill and also the energy of the man they called Doc Martin as he methodically but quickly addressed each concern, between throwing up in a bag.. Finally the ambulance arrived and the fisherman was packed away into the back, a proper IV hung and a paramedic watching over the patient. Martin gathered his things into his bag and stood to leave, breaking away from the crowd to head back to his surgery when a truck came flying down the hill, crashing into a parked car and sending it straight for the Doc. Several cries went up as the villagers watched in horror as the car caught their doctor unawares, slamming into the back of him and rolling over him.

Joe Penhale was the first to reach Martin, who lay unconscious on the ground. Al Large was right behind him. "Oh god," Al breathed as he pulled his phone out to call Morwenna at the surgery. Penhale called the latest accident in, requesting a helicopter for an immediate pick up. To him and everyone else who could see Doc Martin on the ground, things looked bad.

Louisa came running down the hill, screaming his name, a sound that would echo in the villager's heads for a long time after. It was widely known that these two loved one another but theirs had been a tumultuous relationship and many wondered why Louisa wasn't done with the curmudgeon. . The sound of her wail as she saw her husband on the ground revealed the depth of her feelings for the ole grouch.

Two members of the rescue crew hustled to the doctor's side and began checking for vital signs and injuries. "Thready," one said to the other worriedly.

"This could be why," the second said as he pulled at Martin's sleeve to reveal blood pooling in the pebbly sand. The two worked to do what they could while Penhale watched the sky for signs of the helicopter. Finally it arrived and the paramedics prepared Portwenn's GP for transport. After assurances from Al that James would be looked after, Louisa climbed on board to ride with her husband to the hospital in Truro.

She sat perched near him, her hand firmly grasping his and her eyes on his face. "Martin, please…you have to be alright," she whispered, willing him to open his eyes and look at her. Oblivious of the work of the medics, she stared at him, willing him to live.

After a few minutes he groaned and his eyes opened, barely. They shifted to look at her, clear and trusting. "Louisa," he croaked softly.

"I'm here Martin. We're on our way to the hospital. You were…hurt."

"Mmmmm….yessssmmmm." He blinked before fixing his gaze on her again. "Love you."

"I know," she smiled. "I love you too."

"Ssssorry…" His eyes closed and he drifted away again.

"Martin!" she whispered loudly.

"He's passed out," one of the medic said. "Probably best; the pain and all…"

They made her let go of him at the hospital; made her wait in the waiting room. She saw that prick, Adrian Pitts walk through and she hoped he would have nothing to do with Martin's case…. Martin's case? So Martin was a patient now. She almost found it amusing, that turn of fate…almost. But it hurt too much to be amusing.

In that dark world that was the inside of Martin Ellingham's head, he was terrified. It was indeed dark and frightening. He tried to move, tried to cry out but…nothing. Once again he was locked in the cupboard, his mind surmised. But what had he done this time to deserve it? He couldn't remember. He had a vague impression of trying to help someone and then…there was a face, a smiling face. He tried to concentrate on the face; it was a beautiful face and the way she was looking at him… was she crying? It perplexed him; no one cried about him. He was unlovable, everyone and everything in his life pointed to that fact. But she said…she told him she loved him. No one had ever told him that before. It gave him comfort in the darkness, knowing that someone loved him. But he was still terrified; he wanted out of the cupboard.

Mentally he curled into the fetal position, pulling his long frame into a tight ball. He tried to think about the face, her lovely face, but his mind grew darker. Slowly, the image faded and he felt alone, more alone than he could ever remember. And even though he knew it would mean more time locked in the cupboard, he began to cry; he simply couldn't not do it. He wanted the woman with the beautiful face…he needed her.

Alone in the dark, his mind began to bring up other images, summer days as a boy at the farm, the faces of his tormentors at school, the look of horror of the girls if he tried to talk to them, his mother's cold glare…

He was chasing butterflies; Auntie Joan had given him a butterfly net that summer and now he was in the garden with it. There was a lovely one flitting around some bushes and he gleefully nabbed it in his net. It was such fun and he was excited. Carefully he transferred it from the net to a jar and quickly put the lid on it. So excited with his catch, he wanted to share his achievement with someone and remembered that his father was in his study. Running ecstatically through the hall, he burst into his father's office to share his find. But his father wasn't interested in the butterfly. Instead he was yelling about knocking and as he was intimidating and frightening, the jar slipped and smashed to the floor, killing the precious butterfly.

The darkness was enveloping him, the bleakness almost crushing him. He wanted out. Why wouldn't someone let him out?

"Farty Marty," the other boys chanted as he was made to change his bed. Soon it changed to "smarty Marty," until Garret Hobson laughed before asking, "why does smarty Marty keep wetting the bed?" The other boys giggled. "Because he's a _baby_," Hobson laughed.

He was glad of the dark, a place to hide away.

His father was explaining to him that he wouldn't be returning to Auntie Joan's farm this summer; he would do a summer term at school instead. "It will be good to get ahead in your studies, Martin," his father said. Martin sighed and nodded his acceptance. So, Auntie Joan didn't want him either.

Maybe he deserved the darkness….

But a voice whispered to him in the darkness, a soft gentle voice that said she loved him, that she and James were waiting for him when he was ready to wake up. It must belong to _her_, he thought. If only the smiling lady was real…

He fought to listen for her. Where did she go? Why wouldn't she talk to him anymore? Maybe it was just another person taunting him. But her voice sounded so nice; he liked her voice. He liked her smile even more. He tried again to remember her face but it wouldn't come to him…just the smile and the voice. So he tried to focus on that. It had a lilt, her voice that is. He liked the lilt; it wasn't like the voices he was used to…the voices in London and at school. Why did she leave? Things weren't quite as frightening when she was there. Mentally he sighed. He didn't understand what he had done to make her go away, but he must have done something. It was his fault; it was always his fault. There was something wrong with him; he just didn't know what it was.

Slowly his mind gave way to the darkness and he slipped even deeper into oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

Still don't own it; guess I never will. But I hope you enjoy what I'm doing with them.

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It was three days before Louisa was rewarded with the sight of Martin opening his eyes. Chris Parsons had been around, in and out, translating the doctor speak into language she could understand. They thought originally he had extensive internal injuries but further testing had revealed that mostly there was some very deep bruising along with some cracked and broken ribs and one collapsed lung with the other partially collapsed. There were cuts and bruises to his face where it had met the ground, a nasty gash on his arm that had bled heavily and required stitches, and brain scans showed some bruising on the brain. They wouldn't know the full effect of that injury until he awoke. It was a miracle, but he was alive. But as she sat in a chair watching his eyes open, she didn't think about any of that. All she could think was that he was back; her Martin had come back to her.

The darkness had slowly grown lighter and as Martin opened his eyes, the bright light hurt. But then, he felt as if he hurt everywhere, so he wasn't really certain it was the light causing the pain. Slowly awareness seeped through him and he realized he was in hospital. There were machines and… he could just make out the lines for his IV. He felt rather than saw that someone was beside him. He couldn't fathom who it might be. Mum never spent time with him when she let him out of the cupboard, just opened the door and walked away. And Dad….he never had time. Auntie Joan maybe?

The person moved and as he looked up fully, he saw _her_….the beautiful woman; and she was smiling at him again. Tears formed as their eyes locked and he felt them roll down into his hair. He tried to speak but there was something on his face, in his mouth, and he flinched. He wanted so much to tell her how beautiful she was.

He heard the sound of someone else rustling in the room. Then another face appeared. "Dr. Ellingham…Martin? Can you hear me?" The nurse sounded muffled but determined. Painfully, he nodded that he could. "I've called your consultant," she informed him. "When he gets here, we'll get rid of the tube and it'll be easier for you."

He blinked, his medical mind pulling at the fragments of information…a breathing tube; whatever had happened, it had been serious. Looking around the nurse, he saw _her_ again. _Louisa, _his mind recalled. She looked nervous, was chewing her lower lip as she watched the nurse hovering over him. But then she saw him watching her and her nervousness subsided and she smiled at him again. Suddenly he wanted to touch her, to reach his hand out to her and feel her substance, her warmth. And as confused as he was, he knew he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone and he needed her in a manner that far eclipsed everything else in his miserable life. The sound of her whisperings in the darkness, her assurances that she was there, that she loved him, that together they would be alright, it all came flooding back to him. _She_ had brought him out of the cupboard and _she _remained with him; she was there for him in a way that no one had ever been. In a rush of gratitude and relief, he began to cry, tears flowing freely down his temples despite the nurses admonitions to try to stop. He simply couldn't.

Louisa was beside him instantly, one hand claiming his as the other tenderly wiped at the tears. "Shhhh, it's alright Martin; you have been injured but it's going to be alright."

The consultant finally arrived and after a quick examination, removed the tube. Martin gasped at first, his lungs fighting to breathe on their own for the first time in days. All the while Louisa remained, staring down anyone who suggested she do otherwise. Chris Parsons arrived just as the consultant and the nurse were leaving and after a brief squeeze of Louisa's elbow, he turned to his friend. "Welcome back, Mart," he said.

Martin looked at him and after an almost imperceptible nod, turned his attention back to Louisa. Chris chuckled. "Well, I can see that my presence is not wanted so I'll be off. I just had to see for myself that the great Martin Ellingham is back with us." Martin didn't even notice when his friend left, his attention so intensely focused on Louisa.

She moved back to his side, claiming his hand once again and then smoothing his hair with the other. "You scared me," she said softly as she fought tears of her own. "But you're here now, back with me."

He was tired and didn't think he could speak; his throat was sore for one thing. But he wanted to…needed to speak to her. "Always," he whispered croakily.

Her tears began to flow heavier and she swallowed with difficulty. "Always? Do you mean it like you said at the castle that day…you'll always love me or …or that you will always be with me?"

"Yes," he just managed, feeling a lightness that had nothing to do with the medications he knew must be coursing through his body. Unable to fight his drowsiness any longer, his eyes drifted closed but this time, there was no fear. Louisa had unlocked the cupboard.

Louisa couldn't decide if the tears she cried on the drive home that evening were from relief or fear. From everything Chris had explained to her later in the day, Martin's recovery would not be without difficulties. Once he was awake again and alert enough, the consultant had run some tests to determine the extent of his brain injury. Chris paused and then continued, "And if his mind is impaired…"

"He…. He'll be fine," Louisa said with more bravery than she felt. She knew Martin well enough to know that it would be devastating to him if he had any permanent brain damage…even short term consequences could blow their world apart.

Martin digested the news the next day as one of the consultants explained the situation in precise detail. As he listened, he knew he should understand what was being said with better clarity. Instinctively he knew there was something wrong because his mind just couldn't process it all. Thankfully the beautiful woman, Louisa wasn't there, he thought as he watched the consultant leave. He needed time to understand and adjust. Besides, if she knew maybe she wouldn't come around again and he….he wanted her to come.

She appeared a short time later, smiling and optimistic. But Martin could tell that it was a façade. There were tears behind her smiles. As he watched her, he wondered why she was here, with him. She was too beautiful, too incredible for him. She sat quietly for a moment and then began to talk to him. She talked about home. That confused him; whose home? Listening was difficult, his mind unable to process much; so he just watched her instead. Her eyes sparkled as she talked and sometimes her head moved in a way that made her pony tail swish. She had very pretty hair, he observed. His eyes fell to the pale skin of her neck and followed it down to the hint of cleavage peeking up over the square line of her shirt. Realizing he probably let his eyes rest there too long, he looked up at her face, hoping she hadn't noticed. If she did, she didn't seem to mind.

She was describing something James had done and her hands became quite animated. It was then he saw her ring. Watching it for a moment he suddenly realized, that was his ring, one he gave her. She was his wife!

He glanced back at her face. She suddenly had gone quiet. "Martin?"

She looked worried. "I…your…ring," he managed.

Louisa looked at her hand. "Yes," she smiled.

"We…we're…married," he said with confidence.

"That's right, Martin. You are my husband and I am your wife." Louisa watched his face and saw the confusion but also the acceptance. Chris' warnings about Martin's state of mind suddenly became very real to her as she watched Martin process the information.

"And James….James is our…our…." He couldn't find the word. But the boy was theirs, together. He knew that. "James…Henry…Elli…Ellingham," he said proudly.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she watched him struggle. "That's right. James Henry Ellingham is our son; yours and mine." She felt like she was teaching a challenged pupil and it hurt to feel that.

"Right… son." He let the word settle in his mind. He had a son. The pretty woman was his wife and he had a son. He looked at her and smiled. "You are my wife."

Louisa couldn't remember ever seeing him smile so openly. "You should smile more often," she said warmly. "You look very nice when you smile."

The smile skittered away and he looked down but then his eyes cut up, looking up at her shyly from beneath his lids. Then he looked away, clearly not comfortable with the compliment. _Well_ _some things haven't changed about him_, she mused.

She said he looked nice. No one told him he looked nice, not since he was a boy visiting Auntie Joan. But she… Louisa said he looked nice. His eyes cut back to her again as he evaluated her comment. A timid smile crept into his features. "You look beautiful," he said softly.

"Oh Martin," she whispered, her emotions threatening to fracture. "Sometimes you say the sweetest things."

His eyes widened and he glanced away before looking at her again. She confused him. He didn't say sweet things; sweet things are nonsense. "No…I'mer…merely ssstating ffacts," he pushed out of his mouth. His thoughts were getting muddled again.

Louisa recognized that he was getting tired. "I um….I'm going to get something to eat," she said as an excuse to leave. Maybe with her out of the room he'd take a nap. 'Do you want anything?"

Unbidden the words fell out of his mouth. "You; … want you."

Leaning over and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek, she murmured, "you already have me, remember?"

He watched her walk away, taking in related motions of her hips and her ponytail. A small smile settled into his features as his eyes closed and sleep claimed him.


	3. Chapter 3

That evening, the nurse asked him if he felt like eating. "I'll have the kitchen send you a tray if you wish," she said suggestively.

"Tray?" He snapped. "Why? I….I keep….I…." he couldn't remember the word. After a pause he thought of another way to say it. "I get…sick."

"Oh, right," the nurse said. "Yes, it is here on your chart," she said as she flipped through his chart. "You've been vomiting. Still feeling queasy?"

Martin stared at the woman. "Aaarrrr youuu an iiidiot?" He fumed.

"Excuse me?" She shot back.

"I…I….ggget….sssick! Don't wwwant ffoood." She glared back at him, which angered him. "Nnnot…ppppp….pre….scribed in ththththiiis ccircumstance."

"How long has your speech been affected?" she asked quickly.

"WWWHhhat?"

"You're having difficulty with your words. You're speech is slurred and you seem to be having aphasia and possibly some dysarthria. Haven't you noticed?"

Martin stared at her, his anger dissipating. "Nnnoooo." Had Louisa noticed? He wondered. Frowning, he tried to remember her visit earlier. They had talked about the boy…their son…James? Yes, that was his name, James. He'd had difficulty with his words then. "Mmmaybe a lllittle…earllleir."

"I'll just go and inform your consultant."

After she left, Martin let his head drop back to his pillow. He couldn't remember the words for his condition but he knew things were not getting better; if anything, he was getting worse and it frightened him.

The nurse, Martin couldn't seem to remember her name, reappeared sometime later with a food tray. She set it on his bed table and uncovered the plate. It looked to be soft food, he saw before the odors wafted up. Slapping at her hand to try to recover the plate, he knocked the cover out of her hand onto the floor. The nurse bent to pick up the cover just as Martin swiped his hand over the tray, knocking the contents of the food tray to the floor and consequently covering Nurse in the mush as well.

"What the…" she exclaimed as she straightened up. "Why did you do that?"

"Tttheee smmmell!" Martin barked back at her. Then without warning, he emptied the contents of his stomach, which thankfully were few, spewing in her direction. With a gasp she lurched backwards and stumbled over the chair, falling to the floor with a grunt.

Just a she hit the floor, Chris Parsons walked in. "Mart? What's going on?" he asked as he hurried to help the nurse get up. Looking at Martin's surroundings, Chris was quick to surmise some of it himself.

"I…I…IIIIIIII….. sssheeee…." Martin stammered as he pointed to the nurse.

"Alright, alright," Chris said in a soothing tone. Addressing the nurse he commented, "why don't you got get cleaned up and have someone clean up this floor. I'll help Martin with his clean up but we'll need to change the bed."

The nurse gaped at Chris. "What?" he asked brusquely.

"You are going to clean him up? Doctors don't usually …"

"No, but sometimes friends do," he said quietly. "No please, let's get the rest of the room sorted and you as well. Martin and I will be fine." She nodded and bolted from the room.

"Well, looks like you've been spreading your usual charm and good humor, Mart," Chris said lightly as he scanned the situation once more. "Don't like the food here, eh?"

Calmer now, Martin looked at him chastised. "Iiit…smmmelled. Mmmade mme ssick."

Chris frowned and tilted his head. "When did the stammering start?"

"Tttoddday, I tthhink…"

"Alright then. Well, let's see what we need to get you sorted," Chris said as he began to look for a washcloth and opened a cabinet to look for a fresh robe.

Martin watched his friend as he went through the preparation to help Martin clean up. It was humiliating that his friend, his boss, was performing this task for him and he cringed. As if reading his mind, Chris began speaking. "Not to worry, Mart. Call it payback for all the times you helped me put myself back together in Medical School. You remember, don't you? All those celebrations, passing the first year and then Diane agreeing to date me, and… oh yes, passing old Doctor Ferguson's class… that one was a real test. I'd have too much to drink and you'd clean me off and pour me into my bed."

"Bbbbut….thisssis diffffrenttt."

"Yeah, you're not drunk," Chris laughed as he began to clean Martin up. "The smell isn't half as bad..."

Chris' apparent lack of concern over the matter and easy manner helped Martin to calm down. He still wasn't comfortable with the scenario but it wasn't quite as bad. And then a thought crept into his mind…_what if this is to be it then? What if this was as good as he would get?_

Again Chris was an apparent mind reader. "Winston assures me that this is all temporary, Mart. He and Clark are watching you very closely. These symptoms will pass but it will take patience."

"Mmmmmm," Martin growled. "Lllloouisssa lllefffft. Ssssaid ssseh wwasss getting ssome food. Nneverrr ccame bback," he stuttered dolefully.

"She called me. You were asleep when she got back to the room, so she went home to check on James. I promised her I would check on you before I left tonight. So you see, Martin; we're looking after you, your family and your friends."

"Hhavvennn't got aaany."

"What, family? You have Louisa and James… and there's your Aunt Ruth. And as for friends, well I hope I count for something. And we've had a heck of a time keeping your friends from Portwenn away, especially the constable," he continued as he put down the cloth and started to help Martin with his robe.

"Ppppenale."

"Right, that's him. Keeps insisting that it is his duty to check on you." Chris paused a moment and then decided to forge ahead. "No one has called your mother; I could, if you want her to know."

Chris' offer terrified Martin. "Nnnnnoooooo!" Frowning, Chris watched Martin before replying. "I know you don't get along but…"

"Pllease…" Martin said in a tone that was a close to begging as he'd ever heard from the man, "ddonn't ccall hher." Tears began to roll down his face.

"Alright then, not a problem," Chris said in a hurried effort to get Martin to calm down. "Just thought I would offer but it is up to you."

"Rright," Martin said as he managed to regain some composure. "Sshhe doessn't llike me. Aand I ddon't likke hher."

"Louisa told me there had been a… rift."

"Ummm… ffromm the dday I wwas bborn, it ssems."

Chris finished fastening the ties on Martin's hospital gown and smiled. "There, all right and ready," he said cheerfully.

"Mmmmm…"Martin looked up into his friend's smiling face and realized that Chris really was his friend, really did want to help him, with no ulterior motive. "Ermmm, tthank you," he said softly.

"Anytime," Chris said just as gently. "Well, I'm off then; have to stop by the market for Dianne on the way home. But I'll check in on you in the morning. Try not to worry too much, Mart. It will get better."

"Mmmm, rrgiht…" Martin replied as he watched his friend leave.

A few minutes later someone turned up to clean the floor and his nurse was back with fresh bed linens. It took some maneuvering but she had the bed changed quickly and Martin felt more comfortable. Looking at her remorsefully as she collected the soiled linens for the bin he mumbled, "sssorry."

She turned and smiled at him. "It's all alright now," she said warmly. "Just had a bad spell but everything's all sorted. I'm sure you're tired though from all the excitement. Is there anything I can get for you before I leave you alone to rest?"

"Tthhank yyou…no," he replied as he let his head settle back into his pillow. He had to agree with her, he was tired.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks again to everyone for all the kind reviews. I am very glad you are enjoying the story and I promise I will do my best to update frequently.

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The next morning Ruth visited him. Her approach was placid, not questioning him too much beyond if he was feeling any better.

"I..I'mfneee," he replied.

Settling into the chair next to his bed, she nodded. "Good." She looked around the room inquisitively before looking back at him. "I spoke with Louisa last night. She said you are experiencing nausea. That's to be expected, I suppose."

"Ermmm…rrright."

"Also having some minor speech difficulties, I see."

"Yyesss…sstartted yyestterday."

"What does your doctor have to say about it?"

"HHaaveen't ssen hhim yet. CChris PParssonssays II'mmm ggoing ttto bbbe allrrighttt."

She looked at him intensely, following every word. "Are you having trouble recalling words or is it just that you are stuttering?"

"SSomettimess ccan'tt rrememmbber wwords bbut mmostly jjjust sstuttering."

"I see," she said thoughtfully.

"What?" he glared.

"Oh, just… well, if you aren't having too much difficulty with recall then perhaps it isn't so bad; more of a motor thing than actual damage to your cognitive skills."

"IIII ccouldn'tt tthink of ssonn yyestterdday."

"The word 'son'?"

"Rright."

"Humpf. Well, that doesn't sound too bad."

"And…mmy ddocttor….tthe other one…umm….Ennngelmann. Ccouldn'tt member hisss nname."

"But you do today. Probably just a passing thing, Martin. You did take a pretty good bump on the head, you know. Bound to be some short term consequences. It will pass in time, as will the stuttering."

He looked down at his hands on his lap. "III hhope … ddon't want LLouissa tto …"

Ruth frowned and cocked her head. "Don't want Louisa to …what?"

He looked up at her forlornly. "Lleave…"

"Oh Martin, I think it is rather obvious by now that she isn't going anywhere. I know you two have had your problems but you've been working very hard at making little changes that mean much. And I've seen changes in Louisa too. She is trying as well. Even a blind person couldn't miss what is between the two of you. Chalk and cheese you may be but you are also like two magnets, always drawn to one another no matter what. It is the opposite charges on magnets that attract, remember; positive to negative. That's you and Louisa. This won't deter her; if anything, I imagine it will make her feel closer to you. But you must let her help you, Martin. You can't push her away in all this."

He listened, hungrily lapping up Ruth's confidence that Louisa wouldn't leave. He even took to heart her advice not to push Louisa away, to let her help. It would be difficult since he wasn't used to help from anybody, but he would try. No, he would do it…let Louisa help him.

Later in the day his doctors stopped in. Philip Winston was in charge of his overall care and Gerry Clark was his neurologist. Winston began by explaining his chest injuries. "Your ribs are healing as one might expect, Martin. I'm sure I don't have to remind you that they will be quite tender for sometime. Your right lung is doing well but we've detected some infection in the left one. We've caught it early and after a course of antibiotics I expect it to heal completely. But it will require monitoring for some months."

Gerry Clark, who had been two years behind him in medical school, spoke next. "You had quite a lot of swelling inside that rather large head of yours, mate. It put a lot of pressure on the left hemisphere of that massive brain of yours. It has affected the frontal and parietal lobes including both the Broca's and Wernicke's areas, which is why you are having your speech issues and lose the occasional word or two. I imagine your comprehension is also somewhat impaired. All of it should pass as the swelling recedes. It will also most likely influence your behavior and you'll possibly be a bit emotional for awhile. We've added something to your drip to help with the swelling and I expect you'll notice some improvement in the next few days. But like your ribs, this will take time. Things will improve gradually over several weeks or even months until you return to your usual self.

Martin absorbed their assessment with a mixture of relief and worry. Months…it could take months. And what would his life be like during those months? How would Louisa react? It could have emotional consequences and perhaps undo all the changes he'd been striving to make. His relationship with Louisa was tenuous enough, barely off life support and now this. How would they manage? The two specialists left him feeling rather depressed.

The next day was a good one in Martin's still somewhat confused estimation. His therapist had him up and moving around, although he was still weak and had difficulty with balance. But it was a beginning. He didn't have any difficulty remembering words but never realized he wasn't put in a position to have to recall much. At one point the nurse picked up a picture Louisa had brought and asked him who the baby in the picture was. Martin proudly identified James Henry as his son. No matter that the woman had difficulty understanding what he said. But for him, the best thing about the day was that Louisa spent almost the entire day with him. When he dozed off and awakened to find her still there, he felt… hopeful.

On the Monday after the accident, Louisa was resting in the chair next to his bed when he woke from a nap. He raised the head of his bed so he could see her better and contented himself with watching her doze. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the way he felt about her, nothing at all. She confused him utterly, baffled him regularly, and his heart melted whenever he set eyes on her. He didn't deserve her, he knew that; but he needed her, loved her, he couldn't bear to be without her. And for some reason that was far beyond his understanding, she wanted him too.

Everything was so mucked up but she was still here and he found that information perhaps the most confounding of all. But he liked it…that she was still here with him. It was the only thing that felt right since the accident. They wouldn't even let him see James. But perhaps that was best…all sorts of germs in hospital.

His attention settled back on Louisa. He should tell her, he thought. But he was afraid. His mind simply wouldn't clear well enough for him to think straight. He didn't like that. Once she had said he was an extraordinary man and although he'd never felt extraordinary …well, except with her…he liked that she thought of him that way. But yes, he should tell her. After all, one of the things that had made her want to leave just weeks ago was his lack of communication, his reluctance to talk about…anything. Ruth had told him to let her help and that man….the psycho babble one…Dr. Engelmann had said that by sharing, they were creating a bond.

He wished he could think more clearly, speak better. Sometimes his words got confused. He realized it sometimes as he spoke. Other times he didn't realize it until he saw the confused looks on her face. Sometimes he couldn't think of words, easy words that should have come naturally were difficult now. Part of his condition, he knew but it was still frustrating.

He dozed again and when he woke, she was gone. With a sigh, he accepted that she did have better things to do rather than sitting with him all day…looking after James for one. Still, he was experiencing the all too familiar feeling of loneliness that was always present when she wasn't. The combination of his enforced rest and lack of activity, the pain, and her absence darkened his mood. That's when the nausea hit him again. He had bouts of it almost daily, sometimes two or three times in a day. He couldn't move quickly enough to grab the basin for it or hurl over the side of the bed and consequently soaked himself and the bed in the bile. Fortunately a nurse was passing and heard his distress. She proved to be efficient and soon he and his bed were clean. The episode had left him embarrassed, drained, and somewhat depressed. Too tired to cope any longer, he dozed.

Sometime later he felt someone walk into his room and looked up to see the man…the one who had helped him… oh right, he thought…Dr. Engelmann. "Hello Martin. Thought I would stop in and see how you are holding up. I called your surgery the other day when you missed your appointment and your receptionist told me what happened."

"Yes, right…"

"So how are you?"

Martin looked at the man and grunted.

"That good, eh?" He settled in the chair Louisa had occupied earlier and stared at Martin, making him uncomfortable. Martin simply stared back.

"I um…well, I cheated and checked your chart. You've had quite rough few days. I understand you've suffered a TBI. How severe?"

Martin wondered if the imbecile was always this inquisitive, but of course he was. Hadn't he asked all those inane questions before? But then Martin thought about Louisa. If he was going to have any chance with her, he needed this man's help. It seemed to be making things better or at least it had been better before his accident. "Um…nnot certttain yyyet." He watched Engelmann for a reaction but saw none. "Lllouisa dddoesn't knknow. I hhhaven't tttold hher." Martin clipped and then wondered why he had shared that information.

"Why not?"

"IIII…I needddded tttime ttto …to… adddjust."

"Might she help you with that?"

"I ddon't sssee hhhow. Sssshe hassss no iddddea whattt it mmmeans."

"She'll have some knowledge about it and it _is _your head, so it will be important to her."

"Yyyes…wwell…" He frowned, letting his mind mull over that one.

A nurse appeared at the foot of his bed. "Sorry to disturb your visit but we've orders to take you down to radiology. Mr. Clark wants some more pictures of your head."

Engelmann nodded. "Quite alright; I was just about to leave anyway. I'll check in again Martin. In the meantime, give it some thought."

"Yyyes, of cccourse," Martin replied automatically, his mind already churning.


	5. Chapter 5

They are still not mine, except for Englemann, darn it! I do appreciate all the comments and reviews. It is so much more fun when one knows others are enjoying the effort.

* * *

Louisa returned to Martin's room while he was in radiology. Disappointed that he wasn't there, she sighed and sat in the chair to wait. After a few minutes, when he wasn't returned, she went looking for a nurse. "Excuse me, but my husband….he isn't in his room. His bed is gone too so they must have taken him somewhere."

"Your husband?" The young nurse looked at Louisa weirdly.

"Yes, Martin Ellingham…Dr. Ellingham."

"_He's_ your husband?" The young woman was obviously taken aback. "But he's so… and you're so nice. How did that happen?" She blurted before she could stop herself.

"Quite easily actually," Louisa snapped. "He asked and I said yes. Now, if you could tell me where he is?"

"Oh…sorry. It's just…he's so…"

"Injured?" Louisa asked trying to shut the woman up.

"Well, that too…" Now the nurse was flustered but she turned and hustled to her desk. Flipping through some notes, she nodded. "Right. He was taken to radiology. Should be back in just a few minutes, if you'd like to wait for him."

"Thank you," Louisa replied, now out of patience with the girl. Making her way back to his room, she settled once again to wait. Her mind drifted back to his proposal, the first one. He had been so desperate, so obviously miserable after she'd told him they weren't going to work and she couldn't see him anymore. Thinking back to the night of the concert, she remembered his expression as she got out of the car. He looked …well, like a little boy really, about to cry and so sad. She'd glanced back briefly and hoped he might do something, fight for her, for them. But he had just accepted it, as Martin always seemed to accept rejection as something expected.

And then his proposal had come just two days later. He'd gone back into her cottage to wash his hands and get his bag after Holly was taken away in the ambulance. But he stopped to do what Martin always did, clean up the mess. She had missed his considerateness in that small action; there had been too many other things boiling in her head. But he'd bent that large frame of his and balanced to reach into the pool of blood on her floor and pick out the pieces of glass. It had surprised her then but now she understood. He hadn't wanted her to do it and possibly cut herself. He never wanted to see her hurt. As he started to leave she'd told him he was an extraordinary man and he'd denied it, rejected the compliment as he rejected all compliments.

Sitting in the chair remembering that and then her mind quickly flipping through other times when he'd brushed off compliments, she realized something about her husband that she'd somehow missed all along. He wasn't arrogant, not at all; all of the bluster and pomposity was a defensive front. She'd suspected that part of it all along but…just now she realized that he really was confident that he didn't deserve compliments…that he was somehow unworthy. With greater clarity she realized he didn't think he deserved anything good, that somehow he believed he was not good enough. That part of the puzzle that was Martin Ellingham was quite illuminating to her.

Her mind played images of all the times he had rushed to her aide, at the school or personally…anytime really. Sometimes it wasn't even to help her but because _she_ called him when someone else needed him, he responded. Thinking back through the years, Louisa realized it had always been that way with him; whenever she needed him, he was there… even sometimes when she didn't know she needed him. He had stood in the path of her fury at times to provide whatever assistance was required and had never really accepted one word of thanks for it. She thought of that child that she now recognized within him, the one that was so completely starved for love and was so terribly afraid of rejection, and she vowed he would learn how to be loved; she would teach him.

There was the image of him at the foot of her hospital bed after he'd performed surgery. He hadn't said much and yet, he spoke volumes in that exchange. He looked tired and sad and…broken. When she'd thanked him for coming after her he'd brushed it off. "You are my patient, and my wife," he said with a small hitch in his voice over the last word. It had very nearly shattered him, she realized.

She thought of the way he was with James. The baby had pooped and peed, belched and thrown up on him, cried and whimpered keeping him awake at night, and never…not once had Martin lost patience or become cross with him. He'd even taken him to the story time at the library that time. Louisa knew he had done it at her insistence and that he had hated every moment of it. She also had been told that at one point he'd tried to leave but James had fussed, so grumpy Martin sat back down to finish the activity. He was cross, surly, and unfriendly to the adults and barely tolerant of the other children, but he had stayed because James wanted to. That the man loved them was crystal clear to her, even if he had difficulty voicing it. She decided that in the future she would look for those things he did out of love that he really didn't want to do and she would reward him for them. He had been trying to express those feelings verbally lately, often tripping on his words but the message coming through reasonably well. He'd even agreed to more children, even suggesting they get started on the new "project". While she had been happy with him when he suggested it and completely surprised by his determination to begin the process, she hadn't fully appreciated him or his effort, she thought. That would be remedied as well. He was making an effort to change and so would she! Now, if they could only get through this, his injuries and recovery…

Just then, they brought him back to the room. The nurse and a large, strong looking man got his bed in the proper place and adjusted. The nurse lingered a moment to check Martin's vitals but the other man disappeared. Louisa watched it all quietly, wondering how many more days of this he would have to endure; he hated it, of course.

Martin was watching Louisa as he tolerated the nurse's presence. Finally the woman was done and left, much to his relief. "Lllouisa," he said softly, wanting to say so much, tell her everything. But all he could manage was her name.

She was next to him instantly. "Yes Martin?"

"Er..em…I nnneed to tttell yyou…"

"Yes?"

Martin studied her face closely. "Yyou're tttired…and yyyou are ssstill rerecupperating. You shshould ggo hhhome and rrrest …spend sssome tttime with JJames."

"I will… in a little while. Right now, I am where I want to be."

He felt a wave of gratitude wash through him and then another one of disbelief. "Yyou wwwould rrrather bbe hhhere attt ttthe hospppital than aaat hhhome wwwith JJames?"

"No… But I am here, with you and that's where I want to be, with you."

Martin closed his eyes to take it in, what she said and what that meant. He couldn't believe that she really meant it but then why would she say it? Even if she did mean it, would she still feel that way if his head injury took too long to heal or…what if it was permanent after all?

"Lllouisa, I nneed ttto tttell yyyou…mmmy head…" He faltered, fear gripping him. Louisa was watching him, waiting. He had to tell her, some instinct told her to let him. "III hhave aaa bbbrain injjjury; ththey dddon't knknow hhow sssevvvere."

"Yes I know, Martin."

"Yyyou do?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry."

"Ittt mmeans…I mmmight hhave sssymptoms ffor aaa long tttime, aact inapppppropriately, possssible llloss of co… cccoordination, nnnausea, headaaaaches and… posssibly behhhavioral ababnormalities…"

She reached for his hand and covered it with hers. "Chris Parsons said there might be other things as well."

"Chchris? Yyes, wwwell… I'm gglad he tttold yyyou." He tried to sound relieved, but inwardly he was cringing. Why did Chris tell her? And as he watched her, he tried to discern her feelings on the matter but as usual, she was an enigma to him. He decided perhaps a direct approach was called for. "Bbut yyou're ssstill here?"

She looked surprised. "Of course I am."

"Right."

"Right? Is that all?"

"No…nnot all." Martin frowned, trying to decide exactly what it was he was feeling at the moment. Relief…sadness…happiness? What was it exactly? "II'm gglad you aaaare here, wwith me."

Louisa relaxed and looked at him squarely in the eyes, her own eyes bright, reflecting the relief that she too felt. "When you first woke up after the accident, you said always. I asked if you meant that you will always love me or that you will always be with me. You answered yes before falling asleep again. I've been thinking of all the times you have been there for me, whenever I needed you really and I know I haven't always done that for you, Martin. But that's going to change. I am here for you and I will remain here with you…wherever you go, I go and all that. No more running Martin…no more hiding."

"Nno, nno more of that," he replied, a smile almost making its way at his lips. He looked at her thoughtfully, taking in the circles under her eyes and the lines in her face from worry. "I… I lllove yyou, Lllouisa. III know III'm not vvvery good at sshowing it or ttelling you bbut I ddo love yyou sso vvery mmuch. I cccan't iiiimagine bbeing wwithout you; it issssimply too mmiserable to to ccontemplate."

"Then don't…contemplate it, I mean. And you are wrong; you've shown me in so many little things that you love me. I was just caught up in my own …stuff, I couldn't see it."

"Yyou're ttired. And I I know JJames mmisses you. Pplease go hhhome and ssspend ttime with hhhim and gget some rrest. Eattt ssomething bbesides hosspital ffood. I'm allllright for nnow."

Louisa left a few minutes later. She was hesitating but Martin assured her it was what he wanted her to do. "You mmust ttake care of yyourself," he admonished. Even though he did want her to go home and rest, his heart was heavy as he watched her walk away.

Watching her hips sway through the door he remembered a conversation with a patient on the first day the surgery was open. She'd informed him that she was good at making matches and had asked him if he preferred legs or breasts. Watching Louisa walk away, he smiled inwardly. The woman had it all wrong; he most certainly preferred bums, one in particular.


	6. Chapter 6

Later in the day, a physical therapist came to consult with Martin and help him begin to move around more. Between his sore ribs, a headache, and the deep bruising to his torso, movement was difficult but with effort he was able to walk the distance between his bed and the therapy chair that sat in the corner.

"I was told the catheter will go away later today," the therapist informed him. "That is, if you are able to walk enough to get to the bathroom."

Fully aware of the risks of leaving the device for too long, Martin grunted. "I ccan."

The therapist smiled. "Alright then. You want to sit up for awhile?"

"Yes, tthhank you," Martin replied as he settled into the chair.

The therapist made sure Martin had everything he needed close by and said he would be back in about an hour to help him back to bed. Martin let his head rest against the back of the chair as the man left. It felt good to be out of the bed. With any luck, he'd be home in another day or two.

Martin dozed off in the chair and woke with a startle. Not remembering where he was or why he was there, he struggled to get up, standing shakily and grumbling. As he took a step his leg began to tremor and his knee buckled, toppling him to the floor. "Owouuuuuuu," he whimpered.

A nurse was with a patient across the ward and hurried to him. "Martin?" she called out.

"Doc Martin…er…emmm…. Ellingham; I preffer Ellingham."

"Yes, alright then. Let me help you up and then perhaps we should get you back to bed."

"Bbbbut toooo ppeeee."

"Pardon?"

"PEE!"

"Oh…right. Yes. Well, first, let's get you upright."

She tried to help him but he was too weak and couldn't get up. The nurse managed to help him sit and lean against the chair. "I'll get some help. Don't move."

"Mmmmoove…rright….imbiccile," he murmured as she walked away.

It took two nurses to get him up and moving. He grumbled about the bathroom and the first nurse cut him short. "You can't go there on your own. Besides, you still have your bag. Can't do anything about that. "

Martin looked at the tube that was snaking out from under his hospital robe and then at the bag the other nurse was holding and he grunted. "Oh…rrright…"

He let sleep claim him again as soon as he was in the bed. It was easier if he just slept. Being awake was too stressful, especially since Louisa wasn't there.

Dreams came, dredging up memories from the past. .. his wedding day, the first one, the failed one. He awoke sometime later even grumpier. His mood improved somewhat when the therapist came back.

"Heard you took a tumble. I shouldn't have left you for so long; I'm sorry. But are you ready to try again?"

Martin was and with the man's help was able to stand and walk to the doorway. He turned slowly and started back to the bed. "You're looking pretty stable to me," the therapist commented. "I'm going to let go my hold and see how you do." Martin felt the man's grip loosen and his hand fall away. One step, another, and another… It felt good to be able to move on his own. By the time he made it back to the bed, Martin felt weak and shaky but he felt pleased too. He was making progress.

The following day he was able to take more steps. "You're doing great Mart," Chris Parsons declared as he walked in on one of Martin's 'strolls' around the room. The therapist nodded an acknowledgement to Chris as he helped Martin back into the bed. "Just be sure you have someone nearby when you decide to get up, but I think you're okay," the man instructed.

"That's fantastic," Chris said as he stepped closer to the bed. "Feeling any better?"

Martin nodded. "Headddache's ggone."

"Good! What about the nausea?"

"Betttter," Martin replied. "Ate ffood llast nnight….soup. Ttasted ggood."

"I'll bet it did. Your speech seems a little better too."

"I tthhink so…"

"Well, I just thought I'd poke in. I have a meeting upstairs." He started to leave but paused at the door. "I heard your scans were good. That's good news, Mart." And then he was gone.

The following day all the consultants agreed that Martin was healed enough to go home. He would still need recovery time at home, at least six weeks they said. "Your ribs especially," the senior man had warned him. "And if the headaches come back or other symptoms worsen, I want to see you immediately. Otherwise I'll see you next week. You had a close call," Dr. Winston said. "Let's not press your luck."

"Mmmm, agreeddd," Martin replied, relieved that he could go home.

Louisa arrived sometime later and seemed overjoyed with the news. "Al came and helped me move some things to make moving around easier for you. And I put James back in his room. You'll be able to rest when you need."

"Thank yyou."

"And of course, everyone knows to go to Wadebridge for now and Chris is working on arranging a locum while you recover. Morwenna's been very helpful, coming in half days and taking care of the phones and coordinating with Wadebridge. So you shouldn't have anything to worry about until it is time to return to work."

"Ermm…yes…ssounds good," he replied.

"Well, alright then. Let me see what we need to do to get you out of here," she said brightly. Martin scooted carefully to the edge of the bed, anxious to get moving, anxious to go home.

The ride home was quiet. He wasn't used to Louisa driving his car and it felt awkward but he knew he couldn't do it. Martin contented himself with looking out of his window and stealing glances at Louisa instead.

"You keep looking at me; is there something wrong?" she asked.

"Nnnooo. IIII…." He closed his eyes and tried to make his mind slow down. The speech therapist at the hospital had suggested that it would help him and when he remembered to do it, it seemed to work. "I…jjust…like…looking…at…yyou. Yyou're very…beautiful, yyou know."

She glanced at him with a huge smile. "Oh Martin, when you say things like that…"

"Llike…what?"

"That I'm beautiful and that you like to look at me…"

"IIt's…true… just stating…facts."

"Well, it makes me feel special anyway," she said, obviously pleased. "And your speech is getting so much better."

"Yes," he replied, quite pleased with himself.

Martin groaned as they pulled into the parking space beside the surgery, their cottage. The porch was full of villagers, Bert Large at the forefront. "Oh…god…"

"It will be alright, Martin. Just nod and look appreciative… or er….well, at least try not to look angry. I'll do the talking and get them to leave."

Heaving a sigh, he nodded. "Thank… yyou."

The got out of the car and everyone began talking at once. Martin tried to do as Louisa said but he had to concentrate on his steps, carefully following one with another. His legs still were shaky and coordination a challenge. Consequently, some of the villagers misread his scowl. "Doc," Bert Large said questionably.

Martin looked up at Bert, lost his concentration, and stumbled. Luckily Louisa was right beside him and caught him. Mike Chum was closest to them and hurried to help her. "Steady Doc," he said softly. "Still a little shaky, aren't you?"

"Mmmmm," Martin said as he focused on his steps again.

Slowly they made their way to the door and then through it. "Let's let you rest on the couch," Louisa suggested, realizing he wasn't ready to climb steps just yet. He was relieved when he eased down onto the soft cushions. Mike looked at him worriedly. "You okay now, Doc?"

Martin looked up into the man's face and saw the concern. He really cares, Martin thought, about me. "Yes, tthank …you."

Mike straightened up, a little surprised by the sincerity in the Doc's few words. "Glad you are back, Doc. We all are. After what happened…well, we was worried you wouldn't be coming home."

Suddenly Martin was awash in emotions. He didn't understand why but something in the way the man said home, something in Mike's concern, something in his simple help…it all combined to overwhelm Martin. "Mmmm, yes… thank…you," he said as he glanced away.

"Thank you Mike," Louisa said as she patted the other man's shoulder. "We'll be alright now, I think."

"Right… you know if you need anything…"

"I do Mike. Thank you and thank the others for us, for coming to see Martin home. He's tired though and I think we'd best just let him rest."

Mike nodded and headed for the door, slipping outside quietly. He spoke to the others and within seconds the crowd outside the cottage was gone.

Martin watched all of it; Louisa's gentle handling of Mike Chum and the others but she was firm as well. Martin knew he wasn't able to do that; he tended to be brusque and abrasive, cutting people off and hurting their feelings in the process. Sometimes it was intentional but often it was not. He had never learned how to deal with people really. In fact, he'd spent most of his life afraid of other people, he realized; first his parents and then the school masters, and of course there had been the other boys in school. It got a little better in medical school and he'd even managed to have a friend or two…Chris Parson, for one. And of course, there had been Edith…

As he watched his wife turn back to him, Martin was very glad Edith had decided on Canada all those years ago.


	7. Chapter 7

Grateful for his wife, he glanced around the room and realized something was missing. "Where's Jjames?" he asked when she turned around.

"Oh, Emily has him. She's been wonderful, taking him whenever I needed help. It made it so much easier for me to look after you in hospital."

"Emily?"

"Yes, you remember…she and her husband are here from America. They were going to watch James while we went on her honeymoon." She was looking at him now with that expression that usually meant he'd put his foot in it.

"Oh…rright…Emily." He frowned in thought and then looked back up at her. "Iis he doing wwell with tthem?"

"What…James? He loves it there. Emily's husband, John, takes him for strolls and Emily plays games with him. She's very careful about what he eats and they …well, they just love on him."

"II'm gglad…you hhad hhelp, I mmean."

She smiled at him, her eyes soft and tender. "Yes, it was very helpful. She's offered to take him half days now that you're home. Thought it would give me a break and still give you time with James when you're feeling up to it."

Briefly Martin wondered why Louisa would need a break. Then he remembered how useless he was and at nearly a year, James could be a handful at times. "Ppperhaps that is wwise," he agreed after a moment. "I ccan't ddo much to hhelp myself, llet alone hhelp yyou with James." He felt… disheartened.

Louisa sat next to him on the couch. "But you're getting better. Your speech is a lot better already," she smiled softly. Then taking his hand, she continued. "Two days ago you couldn't have taken more than a few steps. Everyday will get better until this is a bad memory."

Looking at their interlocked hands, he grinned inwardly. "I hhope so…sson. WWe have aaa project to complete." When he looked back at her, his eyes were large and questioning, but also a little hopeful.

"Martin Ellingham, are you flirting with me?" she asked in a very pleased tone.

"Mmore than jjust flirting…I think," he replied smugly.

With her free hand, she stroked his face. "I'm looking very much forward to finishing our little project. And maybe in time, start another one?"

Looking into her shinning eyes, he let his inner satisfaction show as a smile crept over his features. "I eenjoy our pprojects…together," he said before leaning in for a kiss.

It wasn't a passionate kiss; they'd certainly shared more potent ones. But for Martin, in his condition and on that day, it was huge. For the first time, he felt he might be alright again. Louisa sensed it too and as he backed away, she smiled at him confidently.

After a few minutes, Martin felt some strength coming back. "I..I wwant to change. All yyou brought were ttrousers and this sshirt," he said as he motioned at his attire.

"It is all I brought because it is all you need, Martin. You won't be making house calls or having people in to see you, so you can be a little less formal." She was eyeing him firmly.

"Bbut…," he began to protest.

"Then go upstairs and change. But you'll have to do it on your own," she warned.

He glanced away, toward the doorway leading to the steps. Then he looked back at her. "Yyou… won't hhelp…me?"

"No. I can be just as stubborn as you Martin, just as pigheaded. You want to insist on wasting what little strength you have on getting all trussed up, then by all means…. But don't expect my help." She folded her arms over her chest for emphasis.

"Oh," he said desolately.

"Oh Martin, you don't have to wear a suit all the time, you know."

"Bbut I feel …uncomfortable."

"Besides, you look quite nice in just a shirt and slacks," she said as her eyes brushed over him. "Nice and trim and… well, … nice." She looked up at him with sparkling eyes that made him suddenly warm.

"I do?"

"Yes Martin, you do."

"No I don't," he denied bashfully.

"Oh? Are you saying you don't think I know what I'm talking about, Martin? You saying I don't know a good thing when I see it? Hmmm?"

"I…I….I'm jjust …I'm not … handsome," he sighed.

"Not in the usual sense, no. But to me… well, you're the only man who excites me."

"Ohh, now you are being rridiculous!"

"Perhaps. But it is what I feel. Are you saying you don't want me to feel that way about you?"

There was something in her expression, something Martin couldn't quite grasp. She was teasing him, of course; but there was something more. Before he could reply however, the back door opened and that Emily woman came through with James.

"Louisa…oh hello, Martin," she said cheerily. "I thought you'd be upstairs asleep. Breaking out of the hospital can be taxing."

"I…yes, hello," he said as he eyed his son in her arms. "I will rest soon."

She handed James to Louisa, who fussed over him for a moment. Emily watched, smiling and then looked at Martin. "Glad to see you're doing better, Martin. I'll get out of your way. I know you'd like a few minutes with James before naptime." She winked and then turned her attention back to Louisa. "So, I'll pick him up in the morning?"

"Actually Emily, if you wouldn't mind keeping him for the afternoon? That way we can spend some time with him in the morning…"

"Oh, okay…that'll work. I'll get him just after lunch. He can have a nap and when he wakes up we'll tucker him out so he'll sleep for you at night. Alright then…see you tomorrow," she said with a wave as she walked out the door.

Martin watched the door close behind her and looked at James. "I'd llike to hold him," he said softly.

"You sure you can handle him?" Louisa asked. James squirmed and wiggled as if to make her point.

"I'd like to try… just for a moment."

She handed James to Martin, putting the baby in his lap so that Martin could get his hands on the boy. James twisted for a moment causing Martin to wince but the baby seemed to understand and settled quietly on his father's lap. Louisa eased onto the couch next to them, smiling. "We're not going to be able to call him a baby much longer," she said wistfully.

"No."

"Especially if another one comes along…"

Martin looked up at her questioning. "You…you're not…" Part of him hoped she would say yes but part of him dreaded it.

"I don't know. It's too soon, isn't it….to know, I mean."

"Oh … right…yes, too soon to know. But if you suspect….you'll tell me?"

Louisa looked at him oddly. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"What? No. I just… with me in this condition…"

"You're going to alright Martin; all your doctors said so." Martin wasn't so sure.


	8. Chapter 8

Ruth popped in while both James and Martin were resting. "Just thought I'd see how everyone is getting along," she told Louisa as they sat at the kitchen table with cups of tea.

Louisa hesitated but then decided she could trust Ruth for an honest assessment. "Martin says he is fine but he seems… oh, I don't know…unsure."

"That's to be expected after everything that has happened…is still happening to him. Until you and James, he had nothing but his career and it requires a great deal of intellect. This has frightened him, I'm sure."

"Yes, I understand. But it is something more. I can't explain it but something has changed about him. He's still gruff at times but …"

"What?"

"It is like he's…softened in some way. But I don't think he is comfortable with it."

"No, probably not. Everything probably feels very strange to him about now. But he has been trying to change, Louisa…for you. And right now he is dependent on you in a way he has never been able to depend on anyoone. He probably hides it, but I know he must be frightened witless."

Louisa chewed her lower lip as she thought about what Ruth was saying. "So, how do I help him?"

"Be there for him. Do what you are doing, look past what is on the surface. But remember he will need space too. But most of all, he needs to know you aren't going anywhere. He has never known security in a relationship, not even with Joan who was perhaps the one person he ever truly felt close to before. I'll be honest Louisa, I advised against your marriage. I know how hard it is for someone with his background to trust or be open with a partner and I know that your tendency for flight feeds all of his worst fears."

Louisa took it all in, working her lower lip as she did. "I know," she agreed, shaking her head. "I know I tend to run. I told him I'm not going to do that again. And I meant it."

"Good. But I'll warn you, deep down he doesn't trust that. It'll take time and there will probably always be insecurity there."

"Right I understand. I just want…" she sighed. "I want him to know what it is to be happy …to be loved."

"I have no doubt that you can show him how to be loved. But I doubt he'll ever know happiness. Perhaps you should be prepared to accept that he is content."

"Most of the time, yes. But there are times… celebrations… we didn't get to celbrate expecting James and even his birth was clouded. When the next celebration comes along, I want…I hope he can delight in it too."

"Well, perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves. First he needs to heal. The next few weeks are going to be very difficult for you both. Just be prepared, Louisa."

Louisa took a deep breath. "I know. Chris Parson told me about some of the… consequences. So far his behavior hasn't been too far off but… we'll see. I'll…I'll do whatever it takes. It just seems so unfair. We were finally gettingto this place where we could talk. He was opening up and there was understanding…"

Ruth studied her nephew's wife carefully. "For now, patience will be required but in the end, he wants what you want."

"Yeah…I know," Louisa said worriedly as she worked her lower lip.

Because Martin became exhausted easily, he spent most of the next few days upstairs, napping or reading. But Louisa could see that he was improving, his steps steadier, his strength coming back along with his appetite, his speech was almost normal but he still had difficulty with memory. But what upset Louisa the most was the way his moods could swing without warning. Once or twice it had been frightening but generally it was just really annoying.

One night Martin seemed content enough as he sat in the lounge while Louisa prepared dinner. James was in his chair at the end of the table babbling away at a rattle he held in his hand. Louisa was amused by the baby's conversation with the toy but apparently Martin was not. Standing up was still painful but somehow he managed to get up and scoot across the room without Louisa knowing. As he stirred a pot on the stove she heard a clattering sound and turned to see the last of James' toys falling to the floor. Then Martin took the rattle from the boy and tossed it too. His father's actions startled James and he began to whimper.

"Martin?" Louisa yelled.

He looked at her blankly. "What?"

"Is there a reason you just threw all of James' toys on the floor?"

He winced as he looked down and saw the toys scattered on the floor. "I…I did?"

"Yes," she replied as she retreived the rattle and handed it back to James. He quieted as he stared intently at it.

Martin looked at the boy and then at the floor and swallowed hard. "I.. I didn't realize… I'm sorry…" He moved to bend down but Louisa stopped him. "You won't be able to get back up," she cautioned.

"Oh, right…" he replied as he looked at her with wide, very befuddled eyes. Abruptly he turned and walked back to the sofa and sat down, hands folded in his lap as if he were waiting for a call into the headmaster's office.

Quickly Louisa picked up the toys and put them back on the table. After checking the pots on the stove, she walked slowly to where Martin sat and eased down beside him. "What made you do that?" she asked softly.

He sighed, although not too deeply as that hurt his ribs too, and shook his head. "I don't know… I didn't even realize I was doing it. I didn't mean to…" He looked at her with teary eyes. "I'm ttrying…"

"I know; I know you are. That was just so… unexpected."

"Yes," he replied sheepishly.

"It isn't like you, even when you are really grumpy you are always so gentle with James. Could it be because of the injury?"

"Yes, most likely. But I don't…I don't want to be that way, not with James and not with you anyway."

She rubbed her hand over his shoulder gently. "I know Martin. That wasn't you, that was the injury."

"But James can't know that…can't understand. Please don't…" He paused, looking almost sick.

"Don't what?"

"Don't let me be like that with him. That was … like my father."


	9. Chapter 9

Everyone has been so kind with their reviews. Thank you! And of course, I don't own any of it. But it sure is fun toplay with;-)

* * *

Martin slept restlessly that night, his dreams disturbing him. _ He'd caught a butterfly and was running thorugh the house to show his father. He knew he shouldn't be running but it was so exciting, catching the butterfly. Charging into his father's study, he couldn't contain his glee any longer. "Look Father…"_

_But Christopher Ellingham had no patience with his son or his excitement. "Martin!"_

_His father frightened him so much that he dropped the jar and it broke into shards, killing the butterfly as it did. He looked down in horror at the mess and then back at his father who was glaring at him. Words were boiling out of his father's mouth, scaring the boy even more. Scrambling, he began to pick up the glass, clean up the mess, all the while his father berating him._

_He looked up at his father because not doing so would only irritate him more. When he looked back down he saw it, the red stream of blood that was flowing from his hand. As he'd placed the shards in his left hand, one had cut his palm, sliced it open and Martin hadn't even felt it. His father's words had stung more. _

"_Now look what you've done," his father bellowed. _

Martin awoke with a start. The sun was only beginning to peek in through the window and Louisa was sleeping soundly beside him. Closing his eyes he whispered, "thank God."

Carefully he eased out of bed and after a brief visit to the bathroom, he trudged across the hall to check on James. He stood over his son's cot watching him sleep, still awed by the gift Louisa had given him. Did his father ever have any of the feelings toward him that he had for James, he wondered. He tried to remember a time, just once when his father seemed to care about him. Remembering his mother's vitriol when they had come to Portwenn to claim Joan's farm, the venom that had spewed from her mouth, he recalled her telling him that his father had wanted a child…everyone was having children and his father had wanted to keep up with them. He couldn't think of a worse reason to have a child and in the end everyone had been hurt by it.

He let his mind wander to Louisa's appearance on his doorstep when she returned from London. He'd been so glad to see her but then realizing she was pregnant, had felt so confused and out of control. And she really hadn't given him time to digest it all, even though he was trying. She'd leapt to the most erroneous conclusions. But they both were trying to understand one another now…not jumping to conclusions but listening and understanding. Then he remembered his treatment of James the evening before. He didn't want to be that man, the one that was so like his father.

Louisa found him still there a few minutes later. She walked up behond him and reached for his shoulder with a comforting touch. Martin turned to look at her, somewhat startled but also needing to see her. The room was quiet as she looked up into his tear laden eyes and saw the anxiety there. They simply looked at one another for a moment or two, a silent link connecting them over their son's bed. Then she reached down and took his hand in hers to quietly lead him from the room.

Back in their room she turned to him and asked, "Are you alright Martin?"

"Yes," he answered automatically. Then remembering that he needed to do better, he swallowed. "I had a bad dream, is all…"

Louisa studied his face more closely. "Must've been."

Detecting curiousity in her tone, Martin wanted to shut down. Instead, he answered her unasked question. "It..it was about my father… something that happened when I was a samll boy. It was the last time I ever went to him to…" he paused, his mind returning to that day so long ago.

"Last time for what?"

Shaking off the memories, he looked back into her apprehensive gaze. "I um…I'd captured a butterfly. Don't remember where the net came from…Auntie Joan probably. It was a rare one for this part of the world and …" he cleared his throat. "I was excited to share it with my father. I ran through the hall, which I wasn't supposed to do, of course."

"Of course," she said encouragingly.

"Right. Yes, well… I barged into his study and …it upset him. It ermmmm, frightened me. I dropped the bottle and it broke into fragments. When I was picking them up, I cut myself on one of them and bled all over a rug. He um…he was furious."

"Oh Martin, it seems you just don't have any good memories of your parents, do you? All these years I thought my parents were the worst ever, but at least they treated me kindly enough, when they were around."

"Yes, it was plain to see that your father loves you. And your mother does too in her own selfish way."

Louisa winced at his assesment of her mother but she had to adimit to herself that he was correct. Her mother was selfish…and so was her father, for that matter. Neither could get past their own desires enough to properly raise their child. As she watched the anguish in Martin's face, she realized how very lucky she was to have him as James' father. As disadvantaged as Martin was in the emotional realm, he was trying and he'd do anything for her and their child…even change. "I love you Martin," she said softly, lovingly.

Her words lifted him. She could see it in his face as at first he looked surprised but then his features softened, especially his eyes. "And I love you," he said back as he enveloped her in his embrace. Wrapped in the warmth of him she realized this was something special. Martin rarely initiated contact beyond simple hand holding and he was even cautious with that. But here he was hugging her and he initiated it! Yes, things were improving, she reassured herself.


	10. Chapter 10

Slowly over the next few days the general soreness and stiffness from the beating his body had taken dissipated. Martin's ribs were still a problem but at least now every movement didn't cause pain. That combined with Louisa's attentiveness had him feeling much better. Consequently, two weeks after his release from hospital Martin was on the phone to Chris Parson trying to convince Chris that he was ready to return to work. Chris chided him good naturedly and then more firmly told him that until his doctors who had him under their care released him, Martin was not to give it even a thought. "We're making do, Martin. I have a locum arranged and he should be showing up at your surgery next week. In the meantime, the villagers are making their way to Wadebridge. "

"Yes, but…"

"No Martin, I can't allow it. Besides, don't you have better things to do than worry about sniveley noses and rashes? Go snog your wife, for goodness sake; you could use the sweetening up. And she's just the woman to do it too."

Martin felt as if he would explode. "Don't speak like that about Louisa!"

Chris chuckled on the other end. "We'll talk again after your doctors have released you, Martin."

The call ended with Martin n a sour mood. He made his way from his consulting room to the kitchen, ducking below the stairs and grimacing a the resulting pain in his ribs. He considered a cup of espresso but decided against it and went in search of Louisa and James instead.

They were upstairs in James' room, just finishing a nappy change. "Oh…erm…." He mumbled when he came upon them. "I… you weren't downstairs."

Louisa turned, holding James on her hip. James, upon seeing his father grinned and began to babble baby sounds before giggling. Louisa smiled at the boy. "Oh no little man, your Daddy isn't able to hold you just yet."

Martin reached for his hand and held it in his much larger one as he peered into the boy's face. His frustration from the phone conversation melted away in the wake of his baby's answering smile. He could feel Louisa watching him and moved his eyes from his son's face to hers. She was smiling at him and suddenly he was at peace.

"You needed me for something?" she asked.

"No, not really; I just…I missed you," he admitted.

He was surprised when her eyes became watery. Frowning, he wondered how he had ruined things this time. "You…you're crying?"

"Happy tears, Martin."

Tilting his head in confusion, he looked at her again. "I don't understand."

"You said you missed me. It was nice to hear."

"Oh." He thought momentarily and replied, "I always do… whenever you are …absent."

"You've never expressed it before," she said neutrally.

Martin looked away, thinking. He started to speak and then hesitated. Finally he said, "I…I thought it was obvious; it was to me, at least. I thought you knew."

"No, I didn't. I don't want to make an issue of it but I do want you to understand my meaning. For instance, I remember coming home from my first day back at school and saying how much I had missed you both. Then I asked about your day and all I got was that you were fine. Didn't make me feel missed, I can assure you."

Martin tried to remember that conversation. It was when he still so adamantly against her return to work and he honestly didn't remember much beyond his own frustration. "I… I'm sorry I wasn't more…expressive," he said cautiously. "I didn't want you to work and it frustrated me."

"I know it did," she said lightly. "I don't think you've ever understood why it is so important to me; but that is a different discussion. For now, it was just very nice to hear that you missed me."

He stared at her in wonder. She had managed to guide them through a very volatile conversation without as much as a cross word. He swallowed and nodded. "Then I shall say it more often."

She smiled at him again, her eyes lighting. "We really are learning to do better, aren't we?"

"God, I hope so," he sighed.

He was growing restless, Louisa realized as she watched Martin prowl the house later that day. Martin had never learned about vacations or time away and consequently didn't know how to relax. His free time had always been filled with reading or tinkering…his clocks. It struck her like a bolt of lightning. "Martin, why don't you use this time to finish your clock? I know you have that one from the shop in Wadebridge."

"Ummm….no, I'd…I'd rather not. Not now anyway. I thought… " he swallowed and Louisa recognized the signs. He was having trouble finding the words or perhaps the courage to say what he was thinking.

"What Martin? What are you thinking?"

"Chris said the locum will be here next week and … well, I thought we might… I mean, ot would be so cramped and patients will be in and out and… I thought perhaps we could stay… someplace else."

"Where? My cottage is rented again. I suppose the farm…"

"No… I thought we might, well at first I thought we might go to London but…"

"Martin, no…I don't…"

"I know. And I shouldn't really go too far. But there is an inn not too far away. It is where Daphne du Maurier stayed when she wrote her book _Jamaica Inn. _I've read that it has been refurbished and … and since we never made it on our honeymoon… "

"You want to stay at Jamaica Inn? Isn't it completely booked?"

"I called. They had a cancellation and we could have the space…next week."

Louisa looked at him perplexed. Where had _that _come from? But she had to admit that the idea did have appeal. And the way he was looking at her, so hopeful…almost childlike… "Alright, yes. Let's do it."

She watched as shadows of disbelief passed across his face and then a smile almost broke at his mouth. "I'll call them then?"

"Yes. Now, before someone else snatches the booking."

His eyes lit as he pulled his phone from his pocket and made the call. As Louisa watched him, she couldn't hide her smile. He seemed happy, truly happy.


	11. Chapter 11

As usual, they are not mine. But they are just too much fun to play with to resist. Kudos to Martin Clunes and company for the character and the series. Happy reading and do let me know what oyu think. This chapter and probably the next get a bit dark, be warned.

* * *

Martin watched her as she moved around the kitchen, preparing their meal. As his ribs healed, he felt more and more able to…no, he mustn't think like that. He hadn't healed _that_ much. But she had made it clear that she wanted to… He closed his eyes to the memory of her beneath him in the hotel room, before his accident. As glorious as it was for him anytime with Louisa, that night in Truro had been exquisite. Just the memory of her touch, the feel of her surrounding him, enveloping him in her essence set him on fire. But is ribs were still tender and his doctors would not approve of what his mind was telling him to do. So he fought the urge… that is, until she bent over to put a pan in the oven. The sight of her bum tilted up enticed him from his resolve. Something flared in him, an uncontrollable heat he was unaccustomed to. Watching her now with the eyes of a predator, he waited to make his move.

She went into the pantry to fetch something and Martin followed quickly. Just as she got to the doorway, she had turned and was coming out. Looking down at the package in her hands, she walked right into him. His hands went around her waist as he bent assault her neck. His usual inhibitions were nonexistent as he nuzzled into her, stepping her back into the small room. Pinning her against the back wall, he let his hands roam the length of her torso hungrily,

"Martin?"

Her surprise was obvious even to Martin and normally he would have paused, but he was alive with need and craving her and he was oblivious to all else. Her hands went to his shoulders as she looked up at his face. "Are you…are you alright?" she asked.

"Of course I am," he mumbled as his lips assaulted the area between her ear and shoulder. "I need you, Louisa…I need you so much. I can't…" His hand worked up under her blouse as if to emphasize his lack of self control. "Louisa, please…" His thumb grazed over her breast, teasing her nipple through her bra.

She dropped the box that was in her hands and put her arms around him, holding him gingerly. Then reason took hold, at least for her. "Martin," she breathed. Then grabbing his hand, she pulled it away and looked at him squarely in the eyes. "You're not ready yet."

He could see the fire in her eyes. She wanted this as much as he did and it pushed him farther. Anger welled up inside him at her resistance. "I am," he said as he pulled at her hand, doing something that shocked his wife as he rubbed her hand over his arousal.

She jerked her hand away. "Martin! This isn't you; this is your injury."

"No, this is the way I feel all the time with you, Louisa. It…it's like a fire that won't be put out. I…I always want you, always need you… Perhaps the injury is…is affecting my… self discipline but… it is the way I feel. You're in my mind…always, even when I'm busy with other things, you are there."

Staring at him in surprise, she looked at the expression in his eyes, always her best shot at reading him. There was desire but something more, something emotional, almost spiritual… and very definitely pleading. And his anger was there as well.

He pulled his hand away from hers and covered her breast again with it, moaning softly as he did. Seeing that he was determined, Louisa knew she needed to think quickly. His ribs wouldn't like the activity and besides, she didn't really believe this was _her_ Martin. "Martin, stop!" she insisted.

He frowned at her, a hurt expression clouding his face and for an instant she thought she'd been too harsh. But then anger flooded his features as his mouth quirked and he leaned in for a kiss. This time, she knew she had to stop him and pushed at him to free herself.

He jerked back just enough for her to slip by and escape into the kitchen. Martin watched her and then followed. She stood by the table, glaring at him. Recognizing that he had gone too far, Martin swallowed. "Er….um….Louisa…. I…. I'm sorry. You're right, it must be… I mean, my head isn't quite… I do…I want you but I know…" He was looking quite sheepish and regretful.

"It's alright, Martin. I know you would never… I mean, that wasn't you really," she said as she nodded toward the pantry.

"Right," he agreed.

Martin watched her closely as she returned to the pantry to pick up the box and then moved back into the kitchen to finish preparing the meal. His eyes followed her every move, noticing every nuance in her motions, catching every sway of her hips. And when she stood next to the table to put out the dinnerware, he pounced again.

This time he had her backed against the table and locked her into a very passionate kiss, leaning her back until she was lying on the table. His hand seemed to go everywhere, touching and caressing and accompanied by soft moans from him. She pushed at him and on the third try he stood, glowering down at her, fury raging in his face.

Louisa was angry now….and frightened. She didn't recognize this behavior, at least not as something to do with Martin. "You need to stop and think, Martin. James is upstairs, anyone could come in, and besides…this just isn't… you."

His eyes flickered up to the ceiling and he suddenly went pale. "James," he whispered. And as abruptly as the episode had begun, it was over. He fell into a chair in obvious agony.

"Martin, did you hurt yourself?" she asked, worried about his ribs.

"No."

He stared at the floor dejectedly. He'd gone pale and seemed to have the wind knocked out of him. "Are you alright?" she tried again.

Finally he looked up at her, his eyes full of unshed tears. "I…. I'm sorry, Louisa. I… I don't know what happened. I've never felt quite like that before."

"Like what, Martin?"

"Like…like…" he seemed to shudder. "I can't say it. I was … I was out of control."

Truly worried for him now, she knelt in front of him. "Well, a little out of control can be fun in the right circumstances but honestly, that was a bit scary."

He looked at her, the hurt, remorseful expression in his eyes heartbreaking. "Yes, it was."

"But you're better now? Feeling more yourself, right?" she asked, needing reassurance.

"Right... better." He stood and looked around the room absently. "I'll um…I'll go…" he waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the consulting room. "Let you finish the meal."

"Yes, perhaps that's good," she agreed. "I'll call you when it is ready?"

"Yeah…good." And he walked out of the room feeling completely drained and deflated.

Martin closed the door behind him as he entered his office. Briefly he considered checking his blood pressure or perhaps doing other tests. But the incident in the kitchen wasn't about any of that, he realized. How could he have let himself get so out of control? The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. He should have exercised more restraint. But the thought of Louisa, especially bent over, made him warm, his blood beginning to boil again. Closing his eyes to fend off his igniting emotions, he took a deep breath. "Oh god," he murmured as he fought to quell some very base and persistent impulses.

The rest of their evening was tense with neither speaking much beyond what was necessary. Exhausted from hours of a raging battle within himself, Martin collapsed into bed earlier than usual, leaving Louisa down in the lounge contemplating his behavior.


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning Martin was quiet, remote even, Louisa thought. He barely looked at her across the kitchen table. She was relieved to see that he did spend some time with James before hiding himself away in his consulting room. She assumed he was working on his clock.

Martin woke despairing. His behavior the night before had been appalling and he wondered how Louisa would behave toward him now. Had he ruined everything with his lack of control? Breakfast was emotionally painful as he didn't know what to say or do beyond the obvious consumption of the meal. After spending a few minutes with James, reading him a story and playing with him, Martin did the only thing he could think of to do; he retreated.

Alone in his consulting room, panic set in. Fighting it off through the morning had taken effort and now he could let his guard down. He was an idiot, he told himself over and over. What had possessed him to behave in such an atrocious manner? He thought about pulling out his clock and tinkering with it. That usually calmed him. But today, he knew it would be useless and he'd probably break something. He was simply too upset to concentrate on anything. What must Louisa think of him now?

Sitting alone at his desk with all sorts of twisted thoughts running rampant in his mind, he felt like a boy again, wanting to cry. But tears wouldn't cure this mess and he knew it. He needed to talk to someone, but whom?

Ruth came to mind first. But he dismissed it quickly. He couldn't tell her about his behavior, about what he had in his mind to do last night. He couldn't tell her that he was no better than some of the criminally insane she had treated over the years.

There was no one else he realized as his mind silently checked off a list of everyone he knew. Except…

Martin opened his drawer and flipped through his book, looking for Engelmann's number. Thankfully the man took his call immediately. "I…I need your help," Martin said rather abruptly.

"Martin? Are you in trouble?" Dr. Engelmann said calmly over the line.

"No…yes…I mean, …yes. I…I did something, or almost did it and …I…. I need your help."

"Where are you?"

"In my consulting room at my surgery. I…I don't trust myself so I've hidden in here. I…I'm afraid of what I might do."

"Do? Have you hurt someone, Martin" There was concern in the doctor's voice.

"Last night I…I…. lost control and I…"

"Did you hurt someone? Your son…your wife?"

"No, I mean…not physically. But I … I might have if…please, I need to see you."

"Alright. Can you come in this afternoon?"

"Yes…er, no. I'd have to have Louisa drive me and…I can't be alone with her right now."

"You're afraid you are going to hurt her?" Engelmann sounded worried.

"I did; I mean I almost did last night. I was out of control and… I think I've ruined everything."

"Alright Martin, stay calm. It'll take me about an hour to get there but I am coming to you. Stay in your room if that makes you feel more in control. Try to remain calm. We'll sort this through when I get there."

"Yes, thank you," he replied. Martin settled back into his chair and tried to breathe normally. An hour…just one hour; he'd stay in this room for one hour and then…then what? Engelmann would want to talk, want him to talk. He'd have to explain his behavior. He'd have to confess that he'd been on the verge of raping his wife.

Of course Louisa didn't understand any of what her husband was thinking, why he was behaving as he did. He had frightened her the night before, it wasn't for the reasons he might have thought. No, she had been frightened because his behavior was so unlike him. She was afraid she was losing him just when they had finally seemed to come together. And his pulling away now made her even more nervous.

James, sensing the tension in the house became fractious, crying and fussing and nothing she did seemed to help. Louisa was coming unglued when Emily appeared at the back door to collect James for the afternoon. One look at Louisa told the woman that something was terribly wrong.

"Louisa, why don't you hand James over to me? Let me wrangle with him and you take a break. Maybe find Martin and…"

The damn broke for Louisa then as tears flowed freely. "I can't," she mumbled.

"What, take a break?"

"No…find Martin. He's …he's locked himself away in his surgery and …. I can feel him slipping away, Emily. And it frightens me."

Emily was working to sooth James, who was settling down some now that he was in the arms of the calmer woman. She looked up from the baby at Louisa."Slipping away?"

"Last night he… well, he wasn't himself….really not himself at all. And this morning, I think it frightened him, what happened last night. He was so out of control and Martin doesn't like to be out of control at all."

"Did he hurt you…or James?"

"No…no he… no. He didn't hurt me or James. He just … well, he was feeling a bit amorous and he went a bit …" Louisa was chewing her lip and blushing.

Emily smiled sadly. "You know, being married as long as I have been gives me some perspective that you and Martin don't have. Some men… husbands….sometimes when they don't know how to handle their emotions need sex to …oh I don't know, let it all out. And perhaps gather it all in too. Men like Martin aren't in the habit of asking for help or even a hug when they need it. But sex gives them a way to express love and feel it coming back too. Could that be what last night was all about?" She paused but when Louisa didn't answer she continued. "My guess is that he's locked himself away because he's full of remorse and very upset with himself. And it probably frightened him more than you realize. He's in a very scary place these days, you know. He was helpless for days and still depends on you for some things, I'm sure. Martin doesn't strike me as the kind of man who would take that well, being dependent I mean. And with his head injury he must feel that his job is in jeopardy. I know being a GP isn't his dream job but he is a doctor and it is what he knows. And then there's you and James… he adores you both, you know. I saw it the first time I met him. And like most men, he wants to take care of you, be 'the man' for you…the one he believes you deserve. It's a lot of stress."

Louisa sighed, still biting her lip. "I…I think I know that. I mean, he likes to take care of us. It bothers him that I work; he never liked it. I always thought it was his chauvinistic tendencies; he does seem to have a Victorian view of how things should be. But maybe it is as simple as what you say, he just wants to take care o me."

"Louisa, please pardon me for being blunt but I'm going to say this anyway. Martin probably never dreamed he'd have a family. He might have wanted one along the way but I imagine he never believed a woman would go along with him. I can't imagine he has much experience with serious relationships, much less seriously intimate ones that are required for a good marriage. He's probably felt like he was floundering all along. But I also imagine he feels immense pride, as well as pleasure, at having a wife and child, especially someone as lovely as you. And call it a man thing, but a lot of men want to be able to take care of their family, take on the whole burden… terribly old school and stressful too these days, but I think that is how Martin sees it."

Emily paused and smiled at Louisa. "I had to work for years when we were first married. Then the kids began to come and money was even tighter. So of course, I kept working. He seemed fine with it all those years, even relieved to have help paying the bills. So imagine my surprise when I decided that I really needed to be at home and on call for our children and once we'd worked out a plan for handling the finances, he was more excited than I was about me not having a job." She paused again, chuckling. "He called me every day for weeks to ask me what I was doing, was I enjoying being at home, and what were we having for dinner since I had time to cook. The house was cleaner, the kids more organized, and I had time to fix proper meals. And I found I was happier too. Finally when the youngest was off to college, I went back to work and I enjoyed that so much more too because I wasn't torn between my job and my kids. He was happier too and finally he confessed that it made him feel successful, proud even, that he was able to provide for his family. I'm not saying it is the right decision for everyone. But maybe that's why Martin is the way he is about your job. Did his mother work?"

Louisa snorted. "No. She doesn't know the meaning of the word."

"So that was his example when he was growing up…mom at home and dad out being the earner…"

"More like a mother that couldn't be bothered with raising a child and a father who didn't care."

"Oh, that's sad…" She sat back a moment, her lips twitching in thought. "I'd be willing to bet that growing up his ideal scenario was a mother at home who doted on him and a father who had all the time in the world for him. I've seen him with James; he wants to be with the boy, wants to take care of him. And he wants you to be there for James as well."

"But doesn't that make me…I don't know…a kept woman?"

Emily laughed."You're as bad as he is! Marriage is a partnership, Louisa. And I don't mean fifty/fifty. Either you're all in and then some or it won't survive. You both give and take in lots of ways. Money is only one of the contributions a partner brings to the marriage. You both have so much to give one another and to James. Don't let the old 'my money, your money' argument get in the way of your happiness. If you need to work, fine… but talk with him about why it is important to you. And right now, while he's feeling very vulnerable and like everything is out of control, find ways to give him some control back. Let him help you figure things out. He's injured but he isn't an invalid. Don't make him in_val_id."

Emily left a few minutes later and as she watched the woman carry James around the corner, Louisa nodded her head. Louisa thought about what Emily had said and agreed that she needed to explain herself better to Martin but more than that, she should let him be a part of her decision about her job, well about everything really. He was injured but that didn't mean he couldn't contribute.

With a small grunt, she realized she was considering resigning, especially if they had another child. She did miss spending her days with James and honestly, she missed seeing Martin through the day too. The last school year had been difficult for her emotionally because she did feel torn so much of the time. Emily was right, she did need to talk to Martin about it; but not today.

Still, was she making him feel even more helpless than he already felt? Was that why he acted so weird last night? Biting her lip one last time and furrowing her brow in determination, she walked across to his consulting room.


	13. Chapter 13

Sorry I disappeared for so long. RL has not left me much time for writing the last two weeks. Hopefully things will be a bit more manageable going forward. In the meantime, I love to read your comments.

* * *

While Louisa and Emily had chatted, Martin was ensconced in his chair, chiding himself over and over. Why had he let things get so out of control? It wasn't really like him at all to behave like that and he worried that it was some dark part of himself that was brought out by the head injury. Would he have really gone through with it if Louisa hadn't reminded him of James upstairs? Would he have forced her? He didn't have an answer and felt lost.

Just as Louisa reached the door, there was a knock at the front door to the surgery. Sighing, she turned and made her way to there. Opening the door, she spied a rather disheveled looking man who looked surprised to see her. "Mrs. Ellingham?" he asked politely and very tentatively.

"Yes, I'm Louisa Ellingham," she replied curiously.

"I'm ah… I'm here to see Martin. I'm Dr. Engelmann."

"Oh yes…his therapist. But… you came to see him?" She was becoming more puzzled.

"Yes, he um…called me earlier and as he's overdue for a session, I thought I'd drive around … since he can't drive just yet."

"I would have driven him to see you…" Louisa responded, becoming concerned.

"Yes well… I thought it best to see Martin in his usual environment anyway; thought it was about time. So here I am." He looked at her expectantly and finally things clicked in her mind. Martin had called him because he was still so upset about last night. Stepping back, she let the therapist into the surgery and showed him to Martin's door.

Giving the door a light rap, she opened it. "Martin, there's…."

He looked up at the sound of her voice, tears running down his face. And he looked frightened.

"Oh my god, Martin…" she breathed as she rushed to him.

Martin jumped out of his chair and stumbled back, barely catching himself, fear pouring out of him. Seeing his reaction, she stopped. "Are you alright? No, of course you aren't… I want to help you, Martin."

A throat cleared behind her and a soft voice spoke. "Perhaps right now, I might help him more, Mrs. Ellingham."

Martin's body spoke the relief he felt as he looked past her to see the other man. Louisa looked between the two undecidedly for a moment, chewed her lip, and then nodded. She walked to the door and with one last glance over her shoulder, she spoke to Martin. "I'm here if you need me and James is with Emily." Then she walked out, pulling the door closed behind her softly, tears slowly trickling down her cheeks.

Engelmann looked at his patient and sighed. "Suppose you tell me what has happened," he said softly.

Martin, after watching her leave, noticing her tears as she did, collapsed into his chair and began to talk.

Louisa was frantic, caught somewhere between tears and anger but more than that, worry. Martin had called his therapist. He must be really frightened, she surmised. But why? She paced the waiting room and after a few minutes went into the lounge. After a few minutes of picking up toys and straightening magazines, she headed for the kitchen and scrubbed a pot that didn't really need scrubbing. As she did, tears rolled down her face. She was losing him; after everything they had been through this was the end and her heart was breaking more than it ever had before.

Dr. Engelmann found her an hour later in the lounge where she was sitting, her legs curled up on the cushion next to her and her arms wrapped tightly around her. "Mrs. Ellingham?"

Louisa looked up, fearful of what this doctor might say. Still, he had helped Martin quite a lot before the accident. Perhaps Martin trusted him well enough to let him help now. No, it wasn't perhaps; obviously Martin did since he had called the man. Louisa just couldn't understand why he couldn't talk to her. With a sigh she replied, "Yes, is he…is Martin alright? He's been so…upset and when I saw him I…I'm worried."

"He seems to believe he attacked you last night. Is that what happened?"

"Attacked? No!" Louisa was up, off the sofa and in front of the doctor. "He got angry when I said we …we couldn't…well, you know," she said as she motioned with her hands, unsure how to convey her meaning without using words. "I was worried about his ribs and… well, it was unusual for Martin; his behavior, I mean. Usually he isn't so …persistent. And then he became angry. But I never felt…attacked. Oh god, he thinks he… oh god…" She started toward the kitchen to find Martin. "I have to tell him… he didn't…"

"He says he frightened you."

Louisa stopped and turned back to the doctor. "Only because it was so unlike him. I never felt he would actually… Besides, he stopped."

"Yes, he said as much. But he's afraid he won't stop next time."

"Next time?"

"Perhaps we could sit?" the doctor suggested as he motioned toward the sofa. Louisa nodded and settled on the end. Dr. Engelmann settled at the other end. "Mrs. Ellingham…may I call you Louisa?"

"Yes, of course… but what about Martin?" She was truly frightened now, more than ever. This man was being far too doctorish.

"As I believe you know, Martin did not have a childhood that encouraged what one might call normal emotional development. Through his work with me before his accident, I believe he has found a way to manage many of his issues. But this head injury, it has left him … vulnerable. His brain isn't functioning normally and sometimes emotional control is beyond him. I'm sure his doctors in hospital explained all this?"

"Yes, they said he might behave inappropriately, that he might lose some of his inhibitions and would be more impulsive. Is that what happened last night?"

"Yes, I believe it is. Something triggered his sexual attraction to you and without the usual brain function he wasn't able to control it. He believes he would have raped you."

"No, he would not have! Martin wouldn't; he couldn't. He might be impulsive and he might push too far but he would never hurt me; not like that," she insisted.

"How can you be so sure?" The man's eyes bored into her as he waited for her answer.

"Because…because while Martin might be gruff and rude, he isn't violent. And he loves me and beneath all his gruff exterior, he is quite gentle with people he cares about. Besides, the one thing that has held him together all along has been medicine. No matter what, he wouldn't betray that and to hurt me like you are suggesting would be a betrayal."

"So you trust your husband, in spite of last night's events?"

Louisa looked at the man like he'd grown two heads. "I do. We've had a rough road and said things…hurt each other emotionally. But he's always…_always_ been there for me when I needed him. He would not hurt me, not like that."

"What about your accident? Didn't Martin have a part of that?"

"I was angry at him, yes. And because I was angry and out of control, I followed him into that road without watching. Martin was being difficult but he isn't responsible for what happened to me that day. That was my own fault."

"That's not how he sees it, you know."

"I do. And I've tried to tell him but he won't accept it. He feels very guilty about it but it really wasn't his fault."

Engelmann peered at her thoughtfully. "You two are quite a pair, don't you know…a proverbial opposites attract case. Yet in some ways, you are so alike; passionate, intelligent, strong willed, and my guess is that you also had a troubled childhood. But that isn't the issue right now. I would like for Martin to have another scan. I've called and the earliest I can arrange one is tomorrow. His neurologist will take a look at the results and determine if his injury is worsening or not. If not, then we are left with his emotional and psychological health. In the meantime, does he stay here with you or do I give him a lift back to hospital?"

"No! That's ridiculous. Of course he will stay here, with me. We'll be fine."

"Perhaps we should discuss this with Martin?"

"Yes, we'll speak with him about it. But there is nothing to discuss. You aren't carrying him off to the hospital."

They walked back to Martin's consulting room. Engelmann entered first. "Martin, I've spoken to Louisa and we have something to discuss with you…"

Louisa followed him into the room and saw Martin sitting at his desk, looking as forlorn as she'd ever seen him, even more so than when Joan died. Still, she fought the urge to rush to him. He probably wouldn't be receptive.

"There's nothing to discuss. You are taking me to the hospital." Martin looked broken and yet, determined.

Louisa pushed past the therapist and knelt in front of Martin where she could look at him properly. "Martin, Dr. Engelmann told me your side of last night. Let me tell you mine."

"Louisa, there is no excuse…I nearly… I might have…."

"But you didn't. And although your strange behavior did frighten me, it didn't frighten me in that way. I never thought you were going to…that you would…do what you think."

"But it was in my mind," he was almost pleading with her now.

"It might have been momentarily. But that's all it was …a momentary impulse. And actually, if it weren't for your ribs, I would have gone along when you first approached me. But I was afraid of you hurting your ribs."

"No, no…. it was more than an impulse. I… when you said no, I intended…" Tears began to flood from his eyes. "Oh Louisa, I was going to …to hurt you."

"No Martin, you wouldn't have, not when it came down to it. If I hadn't been worried about your ribs, well… I wanted to… I wanted to go upstairs with you and… I mean, I've missed that between us, you know?"

His expression slowly changed as his eyes filled with tears once again. "You… might have… been willing?" Louisa couldn't help but think of a small child in that moment, one who had been hurt and didn't understand why but was grateful that there was someone who loved him anyway.

Louisa stood and turned to Engelmann. "Thank you Dr. Engelmann for coming to help Martin. I know he needed to talk to someone and I'm very glad he called you. But we're fine now."

Engelmann looked from her to his patient, who was staring at his wife in utter disbelief. "Are you sure? I mean, if he should have another episode like that…"

"We'll be fine," she assured him as she walked with him to the front door.

"Please call me if ... well, if anything else happens. Otherwise, his appointment is for half nine tomorrow morning."

"Yes, thank you," Louisa said with a smile.


	14. Chapter 14

As always, the characters do not belong to me. I'm just taking them out to play.

* * *

Once Engelmann was gone, Louisa returned to Martin in his room. "Now Dr. Ellingham, if and only if you promise to tell me if it bothers your ribs, I'm going to take you upstairs and show you exactly what _I _had in mind last night."

"Louisa…no. I might, I might lose control again. I might … I couldn't bear to hurt you."

She looked at him appraisingly with a gleam in her eyes. "Oh now, all the more reason. Martin Ellingham out of control in my bed is…uh huh…." She purred as he took his hand and led him up the garden path, or in their case, the stairs.

Martin stopped at the door to their bedroom, pulling his hand out of hers and mentally digging his heels into the floor. "No Louisa," he whispered loudly.

She turned and looked at him incredulously. No?"

He looked at her face, her beautiful, lovely face and almost changed his mind. But the heat from last night, the insatiable longing, the need of her had returned and he knew he would go too far. "I…I can't," he said dolefully, reminding them both of that morning not too terribly long ago when she had brought him breakfast and tried to break through his barriers. "If I were to hurt you I couldn't live with myself. I've done enough damage…"

She stepped closer to him, leaving only a minimal space between them. "We've both done damage, Martin. And now we are working to fix it, be better with each other. And I've missed being intimate with you too. I feel more connected to you when we have that between us. I need this too, Martin."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. She missed…him? He had never felt particularly adept at making love to his wife, or any woman for that matter. In fact, with the exception of Edith Montgomery, he had avoided anything beyond an occasional short fling because he knew after a while he would be rejected if he didn't walk away first. Edith had rejected him only to show up years later interested in picking up where they'd left off. But Louisa… she seemed determined to make things work with him, including the bedroom. Still, despite his feeling of ineptness, with Louisa he had almost always felt… good. He mulled the word in his mind momentarily. Yes, good was the perfect word, because for Martin Ellingham, there had only ever been bad and tolerable before this woman standing before him now. "Louisa, I don't want to jeopardize what we've worked so hard to achieve."

She stood there, looking at him as intensely as she ever had, and chewing her lower lip. She was nervous too, he realized.

"Martin Ellingham," she finally said, "if you don't get into the bedroom now, you will be the one in jeopardy because I might just jump you right here at the top of the steps. Why do I always have to push so hard with you, hmmm?"

His eyes widened in sheer terror of the image of her following through on her threat. But then the heat took over again and he felt his body react to that very same image and he was trying to protect her from. God, the woman was infuriating. And then something inside him shifted and he wanted simply to hold her.

As if she sensed his current need, she stepped into him, her arms surrounding his torso as she held him tight against her. "Please Martin don't fight me on this, unless it will hurt your ribs."

His arms wrapped around her shoulders and now he was the one doing the holding. "No, no more fighting. I can't deny I need you, Louisa… not sexually…No, that isn't right. I do want you in that way but…I…"

"I know Martin; I understand."

"You do?"

She smiled up at him as she moved away enough to turn toward their room. He followed nervously but not warily, as he had before. His feelings from last night seemed to have abated.

Louisa was on the bed, still fully clothed which surprised him. Confused, he stood at the foot of the bed trying to decide what he should do.

She patted his side of the bed. "Slip off your shoes and come here," she commanded.

Still befuddled, a state he had become familiar with when dealing with Louisa, he did as he was told and settled into the bed stiffly. After a moment, she scooted closer to him. "I thought we might just hold one another for awhile. And then, well…we'll follow where our feelings take us. Might be all we do is hold one another or might lead to something more. But no pressure in any case. We'll just love one another in whatever form it takes, yeah?"

"I… I thought…"

"I know what you thought, Martin. And if that's where things lead, then I'm all for it. But I want you to feel like …well, like you have some control over it all. I know emotions frighten you, Martin, even on your best days. With all that has happened… well, I just want you to feel comfortable with things."

Martin considered what she said. "Emotions do frighten me…some. They leave me….vulnerable. After my parents..." He grimaced. "At first I tried to deny my feelings for you but… it was useless. I do love you, Louisa. It's just… I don't know how to…" He sighed heavily. "I don't understand relationships, how they work. I'm…learning or trying to at least. I thought I was…better. That is, until the accident."

"You were doing much better, Martin. We were doing much better. We were working on our little project, remember?"

"Right. Yes. About that…"

"You've changed your mind?"

Martin could see her disappointment. "No. But just now… with me still recovering, I don't think it is the right time."

"Well, we can discuss that later. Although the clock is ticking on that, as you know. But right now, today… it's just you and me, alright?"

"Yes…good," he said quietly as he lifted his arm and pulled her to him. She snuggled against him, her arm encircling his torso, and her head settling over the pectoralis major, in effect covering him with her upper body. It felt glorious but made him nervous at the same time. Stiffly he wrapped his arm around her back, relishing the feel of her.

"This isn't hurting your ribs is it?" she mumbled against his chest.

"No…erm… quite…comfortable actually," he replied as he looked at her silky mane of hair. He watched the top of her head for a moment, conducting an inner debate before finally leaning down ever so slightly to kiss her there. His hand began to think for itself as his fingers began to stroke her upper arm where they rested. "You feel… good."

"So do you. I've missed this."

"Hmmm… yes." He let his eyes close to the world and opened his other senses, the smell of her was intoxicating, the scent of her morning shower still lingering but mixing with a scent that was distinctly Louisa. The feel of her skin beneath his fingers was smooth, velvety even. And as he nuzzled at her neck to steal a taste of her, he felt himself begin to float. The close contact was reaffirming what he'd known since the first day he met Louisa. Every sense he had was attracted to her. He'd never believed in love at first sight or any other romantic rubbish, but Louisa was forcing him to rethink those notions. He had fallen for her that first day and fallen hard. The more time he spent with her, the farther he fell. He never would feel this way about any other woman; she possessed his heart; not in a literal sense of course, but in every other way.

Slowly relaxing, Martin let his feelings take over. He really was content in the moment, holding his Louisa, simply taking in the sensation of her. It felt…good; no, better than good. He felt more like himself than he had since the accident. And he wasn't afraid.

For Martin Ellingham, not being afraid was momentous. He couldn't remember a time when he wasn't afraid of something. And those few times where he felt a momentary absence of fear and essentially forgot himself, it ended in disaster. But here he was with Louisa and he wasn't afraid and more importantly, he didn't feel as if disaster was imminent. He sighed with relief and satisfaction.

She turned her face up and began to nuzzle his neck, planting little kisses there. He held her tighter, relishing the love that she was sharing. But his contentment changed when she began to nibble at his ear.

A groan bubbled out of him as other sensations began to overpower his gentler ones just a moment ago. "Louisa," he breathed. "Mmmmmm…." She returned as her activities grew slightly more heated.

"Erm… Louisa…. "

"Martin?" She was climbing over him now, perching herself over his torso as she leaned in for a kiss. The one kiss led to more kissing and Martin lost himself in the feelings that were beginning to boil inside him. He felt a twinge of pain but the other feelings she was igniting were more powerful and he dismissed it.

His mind recalled a dream from years ago, one of Louisa over him, kissing him and teasing him, wearing a white gown and robe. In the dream she removed the robe and continued her slow taunt. In reality on this afternoon, her actions were much more frenzied. Her clothes went quickly as did his shirt.

He knew she was very heated as she began to undulate over him, still kissing and nipping. He was encouraging her, his hands finding her most sensual spots and making the most of them. And there they were, frenzied, aroused, and ready to lose the remaining clothes and complete their dance when she shifted her weight in a manner that sent searing pain through Martin's ribs. Letting out a howl he nearly threw her off him as he attempted to push away the source of his pain. Once she was off him, his hand went to his side as he fought the urge to double over, knowing it would only cause more anguish.

"Martin! Oh god… I've hurt you… What….what should I do? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

His head still swimming from the pain, he held up his other hand. "Just a minute… let me…" he paused to breath, "just give me a minute."

Louisa nodded and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, chewing her bottom lip. "I'm sorry," she said gently, her voice riddled with guilt.

Martin couldn't speak so he just nodded. Forcing himself to breath evenly, taking short breaths to not pressure the ribs, he began to feel some relief. Finally able to take more normal breaths, he looked up at her to see tears rolling out of her eyes. He reached up to wipe a tear away using the back of his fingers. Then his hand slid to cup her jaw and his thumb took up the duty of clearing the tears. "It will be alright," he said with more confidence than he felt. "Perhaps you were correct in your concern for my ribs," he added, even attempting a small smile.

"Oh Martin," she cried in earnest now.

"Please Louisa, do not feel guilty. I was enjoying our… exercise until… well, that is until my ribs complained."

"But I started it; I insisted…"

"And I very willingly went along. I'll be alright. And it was…worth it."

Louisa began to relax a little. "You're feeling better then?"

"Yes, somewhat. I…I'll need to be careful for awhile but I don't think any real damage was done."

"You're sure you don't want me to take you to the hospital?"

"No…I mean yes, I'm sure. Perhaps we could resume… cuddling? You would need to be on the other side however."

Louisa looked into his glistening eyes. He really was in pain but she could also see that he really did want to cuddle. "Alright then, if you're sure."

"I am."

She settled against him and he wrapped his arm around her to hold her near. "Mmmm, yes; this is much better." She was still for a moment and then started to giggle. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing… I was just thinking what it would be like if I did take you to the hospital. They would ask how you injured yourself and you'd get all flustered as you explained that your wife was molesting you."

Martin stiffened. "Louisa! You were not…molesting me," he said emphatically.

Still grinning she replied. "Oh yes I was."

"Not at all. I … I wanted you to do what you were doing and…more."

She leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Me too, Martin; me too."


	15. Chapter 15

Still not mine. But they are still fun to play with. Let me know what you think.

* * *

Louisa did drive Martin to the hospital the next morning for his scan. He'd awoken that morning with sore ribs and consequently she convinced him to have them scan his ribs as well. While he was doing all of that, she went to the Women's Clinic next door.

"All done?" she asked when she found him sitting in a chair outside radiology when she returned.

"With the scans, yes. I'm to wait here, while they call the neurologist down. You'll be pleased to know that my ribs are healing and no damage was done yesterday."

As she watched and listened to him, Louisa could only think that he looked like a boy waiting in the headmaster's office. His light humor from their afternoon yesterday had all but disappeared.

"Where were you?" Martin asked, breaking into her thoughts.

"Me, oh ah… I was just wandering around. Took a walk outside."

"Oh," he pouted.

"But I'm here now. Hopefully you won't have to wait too long and then we can go home."

He sighed and looked at the floor. "Assuming all is well; do you think we might delay our return home a bit?" He looked up at her hopefully.

"I don't see why not," she replied. "Was there something special you wanted to do?"

He straightened up in his chair. "I thought… what I mean to say is… we had such a nice time in Truro that weekend before my accident…"

"Martin, we can't stay overnight. Emily isn't prepared to keep James like that. And besides, I think we proved yesterday that you aren't ready… for that sort of thing."

Yes… no , I mean… I thought we might revisit that children's store. The one where we decided…"

"Really?" she brightened up. "You want to go back there?"

"I do," he said confidently.

"Let's see what your doctor has to say and then we'll decide, alright?"

"Yes, alright."

They waited a few more minutes before a man appeared who introduced himself as the neurologist on call. "I've compared your scans today with the ones when you left hospital. There is still some swelling but things are on the mend, I would say. Do you feel off balance or simply not quite right from time to time?"

"Yes…off balance sometimes; not often. As for feeling not quite right as you say, I haven't felt quite right since the accident," Martin snipped.

"Right, poorly phrased. My bad," the younger man said. "What I mean is, do you feel like you might be a bit dizzy but you never quite are or perhaps you feel…"

"Yes, yes, I get your point," Martin snipped again. "I do. And I also realize why that happens. One side is shrinking while the other is not."

Louisa could tell Martin was getting irritated and she feared a scene here in the hallway of the hospital. "Martin," she said gently as she rested her hand on his arm.

He looked up at her, surprised. Upon seeing the concern in her face and also something akin to a warning, he sighed. "Alright."

The young neurologist continued. "What I was going to say is that the swelling has gone down much faster on one side than the other. But the other side is going down."

Martin looked up at the man intently. "So how long do you think it will be before I am myself again?"

"You know I can't predict these things with any accuracy. But my best guess, and it is only a guess, is two to three months."

"Oh, right."

Martin was clearly disappointed, Louisa thought. "But the swelling will go down and he'll get back to his ole self again, right?" she asked.

"Yes and yes. Patience is the key really. But with care, I believe it and it will happen sooner rather than later."

"Yes, of course. Erm…would you send a report over to Dr. Engelmann? He will be interested in the results, I'm sure."

"Of course, Dr. Ellingham. I do it straightaway."

Satisfied that all was done that could be, Martin stood and looked at Louisa. "We should go then."

Smiling she stood next to him. "Yeah," she answered as she linked her arm in his. It was a public display that Martin would normally not accept but he seemed to need some reassurance, so she risked it. They walked that way all the way to the car.

"Suppose we stop for a bite to eat and then go on to the shop?" Louisa asked once they were settled in the car. Martin sat still, staring ahead and not answering. "Martin?"

"What? Oh…erm…" he looked discomfited.

Martin? What is the matter?"

"Nothing," he shot back, looking frightened at the suggestion that something might be wrong. His expression slowly changed to chagrin.

"Was there something in what the consultant said? Is there something that is troubling you about his report?"

What? No…well, perhaps…"

"What is it Martin?"

"Nothing really; I just hoped for a better report."

His disappointment was palatable and Louisa was sad for him. She also knew that it was up to her to help him keep his spirits up. "But generally everything is good, right? I mean, they did tell us that your recovery might take some time, right? And the swelling is much better than it was even a couple of weeks ago. You're mending Martin. It's just that big brain of yours needs time to heal."

"Louisa!" he exclaimed. "Are you saying I am…that I have…" he struggled for words but was obviously hurt or offended in some way.

"What I'm saying Martin Ellingham, is that you are a very intelligent man who has a very active brain. And it has been injured and it will need time to heal. And in the meantime, I intend to enjoy every moment we have together because when you are well, I'm quite sure every one of the villagers will have an ailment to tell you about and I won't see much of you for weeks, I'm sure."

Martin rolled his eyes. "Yes," he hissed. "I'm certain they are endeavoring to contract every virus and ailment known to medicine and perhaps a few not yet discovered," he groused. But Louisa saw the gleam in his eyes; he was feeling a little more normal. "And yes, I want that too… to enjoy this time with you, I mean," he said in his typical awkward manner. "So um… where shall we eat?"

"Same place as before?" Louisa asked as she started the car.

"No, um… I don't want to chance…what I mean to say is that Edith could appear again and I don't…"

"Ah, right. No, I don't want that either. So, we'll just drive past it and find something closer to the shop then?"

"Yes, um…that would be good, very good."

They actually drove a block past the shop to find a little bistro tucked in between several other shops. When they walked in Martin seemed to brighten. Louisa smiled as she realized why. It was a healthy foods sort of place. No greasy fish and chips here for sure.

Martin was quiet as they ate but then he usually was, so Louisa wasn't overly concerned. He did glance up at her often with a relaxed expression, almost an adoring one.

Martin was pleased at finding the little bistro. The food really was good too. Louisa had ordered something for herself that he heartily approved of and he was able to order fish. The vegetables were fresh and lightly seasoned. But even more important to him than the food was Louisa. He knew he had upset her earlier; well no, not upset her exactly but perhaps had caused some stress? In any case, it had frightened him as it always did to see the worry on her face. When Louisa was upset or worried, she tended to retreat or even run away. He didn't think he could bear anymore of that just now. He needed her in a way he had never needed anyone, he had realized since the accident. And she was here, with him.

That part still amazed him. He couldn't fathom why someone as beautiful and intelligent as Louisa would tie herself to someone like him. He knew he wasn't what most would consider a desirable mate. And now, after the accident… but Louisa kept pointing out that he was improving and in time he would heal. He honestly didn't know how he would manage without her to keep him centered. He'd spent an entire lifetime not being able to depend on anyone and managing whatever negatives came his way. But this brain injury was the worst thing yet and sometimes he simply didn't think he had what it would take to wait it out. When he was low, Louisa would find a way to brighten his mood and for that he was most grateful. He only wished his ribs would allow him to show her how much she meant to him. He knew he would never be able to tell her with words. As he glanced up at her over lunch, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at her presence in his life. God how he loved the woman sitting across the table from him! It frightened him to think how close he had come to losing her.

The baby shop was almost empty except for the clerk. They wandered the aisles, looking at various baby items, spending time over them in a way that they hadn't been able to with James along. Finally Louisa stopped in front of a display for a nursery. Martin glanced from her glowing face to the very pink linens and other adornments. He tilted his head, trying to decipher what was going through her mind. Finally, he thought he knew. "You are hoping that if we have another child it will be a girl," he said.

Louisa turned her head to gaze up at him and he saw tears in her eyes. "Not if, Martin."

"Louisa, as you know there are no guarantees…" and then it hit him like a flash. "You…you're …" his eyes shot down to her abdomen and then back to her face. "You're… pregnant?"

"Yes Martin," she whispered, a few of the tears falling down her cheeks.

"But why are you crying," he asked as he hurriedly fished in his pocket to find a handkerchief.

"Because I'm afraid; I didn't know how you would take the news and besides, well… I am a bit past my prime for having babies."

Wiping her tears he couldn't miss the fearful expression in her eyes. "Louisa, I'd preferred that we waited until I am better but… this _is_ what we said we wanted, is it not?"

"Yes. But I was…am afraid that I'm pushing you into something you do not want."

Martin frowned at her. She was so confusing at times, he thought. Louisa had always wanted children, as in several. She should be happy with this news and instead she was crying. Perhaps it was the hormones? His mind threw up a big red warning light just before he spoke, reminding him of his mistakes of the past. Be careful what you say, it told him.

"Louisa, I would be a fool if… I mean, we talked about this and you gave me time to think it through and I made a decision and we … we were working on it. Right?"

"Yes," she sniffed.

"If it hadn't been for my bloody accident, we'd have worked more on it but as it is that would have been superfluous. Apparently our time in Truro was successful, in more ways than we realized. But you know for certain?"

"Yes, while you were in radiology, I went over to the Women's Clinic. They confirmed it for me although I've suspected for a couple of weeks and did the EPT." She was watching him intently and for once Martin sensed the importance of his reaction. "Why…why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wasn't certain and well, you've had so much to deal with." She still looked nervous.

Determined to get things right this time, Martin cupped her face tenderly with his right hand and looked into her eyes. "Oh Louisa, I wish you had told me. This is the kind of news I've needed to hear. Things have been so… glum and now… well, this is happy news, isn't it?"

"So… you're not upset?"

" No… not at all. Why would I be? The woman I love more has just told me that she is pregnant with my child; how could I be anything but happy?"

"Oh Martin," she cried as she pressed against him, hugging him in a rather effusive display of affection that normally would have upset him in a public place. But the store was virtually empty, he realized, and she needed this; they both did. And so he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "Oh Louisa…" he sighed, happier than he had felt since the accident.


	16. Chapter 16

Louisa felt Martin's furtive glances her way all the on the drive back to Portwenn. It was the old Martin's behavior, she worried. Her suspicions were confirmed when she would look his way and he'd quickly turn his head to look out the windscreen or out the window. She wondered what he was thinking and if he was truly reverting. The memory of the disastrous concert flashed in her mind. It really had been sweet, the way he kept glancing at her and then his eyes would dash away as soon as she turned her head. Once, she managed not to turn for quite awhile when she felt his gaze and he looked steadily at her for long moments. She turned just in time to see his awe stricken, hopeful gaze before his eyes darted back to the ensemble that was playing. She had been drawn to Martin all along and thought she loved him, but it was in that afternoon that she knew she truly loved him. And then everything fell apart.

She let out a long sigh and immediately felt the effect on Martin through his shifting in his seat. Blinking, she chastised herself for that. He was making such an effort, had been splendid when she told him about the coming baby, sweet about it even. Yes, he was trying more than he ever had and his reward for his efforts today was her silence except for a long sad sigh.

She knew she had to do something. His hand was resting in his lap and so she reached for it to give it a small squeeze. But just as she reached, he moved his hand and she missed her target, squeezing something else entirely. Martin jerked at the contact and as surprised as Louisa was with what she felt in her hand, she let it linger a moment, giving him a little extra squeeze for good measure. "Louisa!" he bellowed. She burst into giggles as she withdrew her hand.

Martin looked at his wife with great perplexity. Why had she done that, he wondered; it wasn't something she normally did…grabbing his genitals like that. And while she was driving too! It had surprised him; no, shocked him was more like it. Not that he minded one bit once he'd had a second to process it all. It had just been so unexpected. What _was _she thinking? They'd agreed that he wasn't quite ready for much in the way of sexual activity, so it couldn't be that she wanted… no, not that. Besides, that was hardly a way to set the mood. But then why?

Sensing his utter loss as to what just happened; Louisa decided she'd better explain. "Sorry. You moved your hand just as I was reaching for it," she said. And then she giggled again. "Don't think either of us was quite expecting that."

Martin grunted, "Mmmm…." Then glancing at her surreptitiously again he commented, "better to have both hands on the wheel anyway."

"Yes, perhaps you are right," she giggled a little more.

Martin let his eyes wander along her side, first studying her facial profile as she concentrated on the road, a slight smile on her face. As his eyes wandered down, he let them linger over her abdomen. He wasn't prepared for the emotions that washed through him in that instant. His baby was there, inside her, growing. She was nurturing a part of him that no one else would or could. The awe of it threatened to overwhelm him as his mind embraced his thoughts. Had his father ever had similar thoughts about his mother, about the baby inside her, about him? He doubted it. Suddenly his eyes were moist and he feared he might cry. No one had ever loved him, not like Louisa did. Oh Edith had cared for him in her own way, he supposed. But she never…only Louisa was willing … he blinked back tears as he felt his heart expanding in his chest. It was such an intimate thing, having a baby…well, creating one at least, his mind corrected. No, another part of him insisted; having a baby, together. They were having a baby … together. A part of him had joined with a part of her and now it was growing inside her. She loved him enough to do that, and not just once either. She was doing it again. And then a dark cloud passed through his thoughts.

Glancing up at her face again, he asked hesitantly. "Louisa?"

"Yeah Martin…" she replied as she maneuvered a turn onto the road to the village.

"Um… this time… the baby, I mean…"

She glanced over at him worriedly. "What about the baby?"

"With James… when you came back to the village… I know I didn't handle it well at first but once I'd had time to… to process it all; I wanted to participate."

"I think it's safe to say that neither of us handled any of that very well, Martin."

"Yeah, right…ummmm… but this time…"

Louisa frowned. "What about this time?"

"I want…what I mean to say is… to ask really is… will you allow me to… to be more involved?"

There was such sadness in his question. It was the hurt little boy in Martin that was asking, she realized. "Of course. I want you to be; I did then but…well, I was being… obtuse. I was frightened and angry and… too proud."

Martin swallowed. He hadn't meant to bring up the hurt feelings from before, only to know if he would be allowed to be more involved this time. "But I can…"

"How about some ground rules, Martin. "How about this; you are not my doctor. I'll go to Truro for that. Beyond that, you are free to pamper and fuss over me and the baby as much as you feel you need to. But we'll make decisions together. No going off and painting the walls without consulting me first, right?"

"You don't want me to be your doctor?" He seemed hurt.

"No, I don't," she said firmly. "I need you…that is, we need you to be the husband and the father. There are lots of good doctors in Truro that can take care of that side of things. But there is only one man who can be the husband I need or the father the baby needs."

He looked at her shyly. "But I don't think I'm very good at those things. I am a good doctor."

"Yes, you are. But obstetrics isn't really your forte is it? Besides, you are getting much better at those other things and will get even better with more practice."

"But you'll tell me what your doctor says when you have an appointment?"

"Yes. In fact, you can go to the appointments with me if you promise to be my husband and the expectant father and not Dr. Ellingham."

Yes, I would like that," he said as his mood brightened again.

Louisa pulled into the car park beside the surgery and smiled at him. "Good. That's settled then."

Martin almost cracked a smile too as he nodded. "Yes, right. Settled."

Emily brought James back to them just after they arrived home. "He hasn't had his nap," she told them. "We tried but he just wouldn't go down; been fussy as a result."

"Thank you, Emily," Louisa smiled happily as she took James from Emily. Martin, standing in the background rushed to Louisa. "Here, let me take him; he's getting to heavy for you to carry," Martin said.

Emily shot him a confused look and Louisa started to bristle until she realized she had just given him permission to make a fuss over her. Maybe some refinement of the rules would be required, she thought. But as she watched Martin handle their boy, she decided that perhaps she was over reacting. He was trying to be considerate, after all. There were probably lots of women of the village that would be envious at the moment, seeing her husband being so considerate. Still, maybe they needed to talk it through a little more.

Martin looked at Emily questioningly but said nothing. Emily stared back at him in defiance. It was up to Louisa to mediate the choppy waters. "Not to worry," she told the older woman, "we'll see if we can't get him to take a short lie down. And I do appreciate you changing your schedule to accommodate us."

"Emily turned her gaze to Louisa and smiled. "My pleasure. And I hope everything is well."

"Yes, yes it is," Louisa beamed.

Martin, watching the exchange between the two, saw the dubious look that Emily gave his wife. "Louisa's pregnant," he blurted before his brain had time to stop his mouth.

"Really?" Emily exclaimed happily. "Oh Louisa, that's wonderful news!" She paused and leaned into Louisa. "It is, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. I've only just had it confirmed thought so we'd appreciate you not spreading that around."

"Then why'd he blurt it out?"

Louisa looked at Martin warmly. "Because he's excited about it and he knows I am too."

Martin watched Louisa, adoring the way her head bounced when she spoke, her ever present ponytail bouncing with every word. More than that, he adored her. And now she was having a baby, his baby! Emily saw his expression and softened just a little in her attitude with him. "Well, it's nice when the father is excited about it. Far too many babies come into this world with the fathers dragging their feet about it the whole way."

Martin straightened up, his head snapping around to stare at the woman. "I'm not dragging my feet," he insisted.

"No, no I can see that," Emily smiled. "Well, congratulations to both of you. Now I'll be on my way and I promise to keep it under my hat until you are ready to let the cat out of the bag," she said as she waved and walked away.

Martin looked at Louisa. "She wasn't wearing a hat."

"What?" Louisa looked at the retreating woman and confirmed that Martin was correct.

"She said she'd keep it under her hat…"

Louisa smiled. "Oh Martin, are you cracking a joke?"

Martin's lips turned up just a fraction. "A very bad one apparently."

"Come on Martin," Louisa said as she headed through the front door. "Let's get James settled and we can do a little celebratory snogging."

"Louisa!" But inwardly, Martin was quite happy with the plan.


	17. Chapter 17

Everyone has been so kind and generous with reviews and comments. I do appreciate it! Every one brightens my day. And I love the suggestions; they make me think things through a little more. o keep 'em coming.

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James settled quickly for his nap. Looking at the clock, Louisa groaned. It was really too late in the day for him to nap but he'd be an absolute grouch the rest of the way if he didn't lie down for a little while. She'd have to be certain to wake him before too long though. Otherwise there'd be no sleeping tonight.

She crept down the steps and found Martin in the lounge, sitting on the couch. It was rare to see Martin just sitting, but he was. Usually he had something to read or was working on a clock or some other project. The sight of him just sitting there worried her. "Everything alright?" she asked as she sat next to him.

He looked up, startled. "Yes, I erm…was just waiting to …um…."

"You mean this," she said huskily as she zeroed in on his lips with her own. Her gentle kiss was turned to something much more intense by Martin as his hands travelled to the sides of her face, his fingers working into her hair. "Louisa," he moaned as they paused for a breath but words weren't really needed at the moment and she delved back into the taste of his lips. Her shy, reserved Martin was taking over the activity with enthusiasm. She felt his heat growing and knew that beneath his white shirt, his heart was pounding, as he led them into more amorous activities. His mouth left hers to explore her neck and nibble at her ear. His hands weren't nearly so tame, wandering over her shoulders and then to her breasts. Unable to control her response, she moaned and squirmed under his touch. Oh how she had missed this…

"Oh Louisa, I want you so much…" he breathed as his mouth trailed down her neck, seeking that which his hands held.

"Upstairs," she commanded as she broke away from him to head for the steps. "We'll have to be careful about your bloody ribs but this time…" He was right behind her, his hands on her, searching, avaricious in their pursuit…

A knock sounded at the door just as they'd made the landing. "Bloody hell!" Martin exclaimed as he looked towards the door in utter frustration.

Louisa looked from him to the door as another knock sounded. "Doc, you in there?" called Joe Penhale.

Martin's eyes widened as he shook his head negatively. Louisa was undecided until there was another knock, this one sounded a little frantic. Louisa pointed to the lounge, signaling Martin to go back in there. And then she opened the door. "Joe?"

"Louisa, hi. Um… is the Doc in? I ummm…I cut my hand and I think I need stitches."

Louisa looked down at Joe's hand and it was bleeding a lot. "Joe, you know Martin isn't working right now. He's still recovering."

"Yeah, but I thought maybe… it's a long drive to Wadebridge, you know."

Martin pushed in behind Louisa, having gone around through the kitchen and through the reception. Peering over her shoulder, he grunted. "Looks deep."

"Yeah. Can you help me with it, Doc?" Joe asked with pleading eyes.

Martin looked from his hand to his face. "I erm, can't stitch it, Penhale. I'm prohibited because of my injuries. "

"But it's _bleeding_," Penahale whined.

Martin looked down a the small red pool that was forming on the stones of the porch. "Alright, come in if you must," he grumbled. "I can't stitch it but perhaps I can wrap it well enough to slow the bleeding," he groused as he headed for his office.

Louisa stepped aside to allow Penhale through and then followed both men into the surgery. She was always fascinated to watch Martin at work on a patient. He had such skill, even when he was hampered. He cleaned Joe's hand and inspected the cut. "Yes, you'll need stitches. Um Louisa, could you help me with this?"

She moved closer and together they wrapped Joe's hand with a bandage. "That should get you to Wadebridge," Martin declared. "Try to hold the hand up to slow the bleeding."

"Right, um…" Penhale hesitated.

"What?"

"Could one of you drive me?"

Louisa opened her mouth to say she would but Martin cut her off. "Get one of the villagers to take you, perhaps Bert or Al…"

Joe stared at Martin blankly for a moment and then glanced at Louisa, who had closed her mouth. "Right, Bert or Al…thanks Doc," Joe said as he walked to the door. "I um…I'm sorry that I disturbed you."

"Yes. Right. And Penhale," Martin admonished, "the village needs to understand that I'm not practicing until I'm recovered. I know it's a long way to Wadebridge but it can't be helped."

Joe glanced from Martin to Louisa and back at Martin. "Yeah, I understand Doc."

They heard the outer door click in place as the constable left. "Now where were we?" Louisa turned to her husband with a gleam in her eye.

Martin looked down at her with an answering gleam. "I believe you were about to take me upstairs to have your way with me," he said teasingly.

Amused by the abrupt change in his attitude, Louisa replied, "Right," as she grabbed his hand and headed for the stairs.

One thing that Martin always admired about Louisa was her determination, even if at times it unsettled him. But today, her determination was full of promise for the both of them. No sooner had she passed the threshold of their bedroom, then she was tugging at her clothes, divesting herself of all but the last layer and then voraciously attacking his garments. Martin could be slow to grasp her meaning at times but he had no doubt as to what his next move should be. Reigniting the fires that had been kindled downstairs, they had just set about removing the last layer of clothing when James let out a wail in his room.

Louisa moaned and Martin cursed under his breath as he sat up. "I'll go," she said conceding defeat. Martin grunted and watched as she threw on some clothes and disappeared through the door. Listening, he heard her soft voice soothing his son and the baby's answering babble. Suddenly lonely, he grabbed his clothes and followed her into James' room, siding up next to Louisa as she held their son. Cupping the back of the boy's head with his hand, Martin felt overwhelming elation in that moment. "We must talk, cheeky little man," he said lightly. Louisa looked up and him and giggled. "Mike called him that," she said. "Yes," Martin replied and then leaned over and kissed her gently. "We'll um… pick up again later?"

She looked at him with shining eyes, her own happiness evident. "Definitely," she whispered.

Awhile later, Louisa was in the kitchen, deciding what to prepare for dinner. Martin was in the lounge, reading to James. He looked up from the book and watched as his wife moved around the kitchen, seeming to look for something. Finally she stopped in the middle of the room and sighed. "Do you need help?" he asked.

Louisa looked at him and shook her head. "No, but I do need to walk down to the market. You'll be alright with James until I get back?"

"Yes," he replied. "But why do you need the market?"

"I bought a fish but I forgot the veg," she said wearily.

Martin took in her body language. She was agitated, if her gestures were anything to go by. Her lower lip was taking abuse as she chewed at it. Briefly Martin wondered what he had done to upset her but he could think of nothing. Perhaps it was something he hadn't done. But what?

Looking down at James he thought for a moment before inspiration struck. "Why don't we eat at Bert's tonight?"

She looked up at him, surprised. "Are you sure? I know you don't like to eat away, there especially."

He saw the hope clearly etched in her face and knew he couldn't disappoint her. "I'm sure," he answered. "What do you think, James," he asked the boy as he looked down at him, "should we take your mother out for dinner tonight?"

James squealed his agreement.


End file.
